once blind, in the light you can sing
by thejeweloftherealm
Summary: Captain Swan/Lieutenant Duckling AU: He took a vow to protect the world from her. She was imprisoned because of the magic she possessed. All she wants is to be free, and although it goes against everything he promised, he's determined to give her what she wants.
1. Part 1

**Part 1**

The Fade is the realm anyone can travel to in their dreams, the first realm created by the Maker. It's told that it was once populated with spirits, until the Maker became unsatisfied and created another world, the world where everyone lives. But the spirits remained, and grew jealous of the new land, and through that jealousy they became twisted into demons, creatures embodying sin.

To use magic, to cast any sort of spell, a person needs to be able to channel energy from the Fade. It's not something everyone can do, and to have such an ability is a terrible risk. For demons notice when someone draws power from their realm.

And in order to exist in the physical world, demons need to possess a host.

Killian Jones has seen such an abomination, but he knows that a mage doesn't need to be possessed to be dangerous.

He's seen it before, seen a man give in to desperation and temptation and want _more_. He _remembers_ what happens when someone is willing to do anything to get what they want.

Every day he remembers seeing Milah controlled like a puppet, and it's because of this that he joined the Templars, pledged to protect the mages from themselves. And more importantly, protect the world from _them_.

He's spent years training and praying, taking the strictly regulated substance, lyrium, that gives him the power he needs to stop mages, and earlier in the week, he stayed up for a night vigil and made his vows to serve the Maker and protect the world from the dangers of magic.

Killian Jones took his vows only days ago, and he's already the designated murderer at a Harrowing.

He had been excited when he was stationed at the Circle, because surely that meant that he was_ good_ at what he was doing. It proved he hadn't been wrong to stop following in his brother's footsteps, asking for a martial education instead of being sworn into the Chantry as a cleric.

He hadn't thought it through. The Circle might be the home of mages, a place to train them without risking others, but they still need to be watched carefully. Tested.

This test, it sends the mages into the Fade, sends them to temptation to see if they'll give in, if they're strong enough to remain _themselves_ when faced with the offer of anything they could want in exchange for their bodies.

And today it's his job to strike them down, should they fail. If they writhe and scream and _mutate_ into monstrosities.

Or if they simply take too long to succeed.

He goes with a group of templars into the Harrowing Chamber and waits for the mage apprentice to arrive. The others are there in case he can't do it, in case he's overwhelmed by the abomination.

They're not there for the possibility he just can't do it. Can't kill someone.

Two templars bring the mage in, and he can't look away. She looks terrified, her eyes wide, her hands shaking slightly, her face white, but she's _beautiful_. It's not just her appearance, though. There's a strength in the way she holds herself. Even though she's scared, she's standing tall and determined, trying to hide her fears from everyone there.

Killian can see them. He can see everything she's trying to disguise.

And he desperately wants her to pass this test, because she already looks lost and he doesn't want her to lose herself completely. He wants her to survive. He doesn't want to watch another woman fall prey to magic, to be destroyed by it.

He doesn't know what he'll do if she does fail and he has to take her life away.

"You're Emma?" One of the other Templars asks, and Killian realises he was supposed to know that, because he's meant to be taking the lead with this, but she's distracted him from the moment she was brought through the door.

"Yes, Ser." she answers, and her hands may be shaking but her voice isn't. "And I'm ready for my Harrowing."

"Are you sure?" The man asks, and Killian notices how her lips tremble, distress clear in her sea-green eyes. Then she blinks and the look is gone, her expression hard and resolute.

"She's sure." Killian says, and it's the first time she truly looks at him. She's surprised, her mouth open just the smallest bit, and he has to smile at her, speak to her. "You can do this."

Emma tilts her head, doesn't say anything, but he can read the question in her eyes. _You think so?_ He nods, just tilts his head up and down in the smallest of movements, but she sees it and she actually smiles.

They wait for the First Enchanter to bring the potion that will send Emma into the dreamworld. Even though Emma wouldn't have been informed that she would face this test until she was brought to the room, she seems calmer now, no longer shaking.

When First Enchanter Regina arrives, she strides into the room as if there's nothing important happening, as if she isn't arriving to watch one of her students survive or be executed. She hands over the blue potion, Emma holding it steady, and then leans against the wall, arms crossed and clearly wanting to be anywhere but here.

Killian doubts anyone _wants_ to be there, but Regina's boredom and apathy can hardly be reassuring for Emma. Because he knows that all Emma truly understands about this test is that the one's who fail it never come back.

He sends her one more reassuring smile and then she drinks, her eyelids flutter and she pitches forward, Killian reaches out to catch her and lower her gently to the stone floor.

Apparently, allowing them to sleep on a bed for such an ordeal would be too much of a kindness.

Then it's up to the Templars to wait, to keep vigil over her until she wakes, or becomes something else entirely.

And so he watches, refuses to look away. Emma looks peaceful, even though he knows that she isn't, the determination she had worn now absent from her expression. With every breath she takes, a strand of golden hair dances above her lips, and he wants to reach down and brush it aside, but he can't.

Another templar, Greg, is in charge of keeping time. He'll tell them when she's been under too long, when it's too late, and Killian already resents him, knowing that with one word, he can sentence Emma to death.

Greg won't look away from the clock. Killian's just glad he's not the one designated to kill, as he's heard that no mage has returned from a Harrowing where Greg is in charge. And although many mages do fail, that's a higher number than usual.

So Killian watches her carefully, wants to see the instant she succeeds and returns to him.

Although he knows she's only sleeping, the lyrium-induced sleep looks different. She's completely still, and if it wasn't for the slight movement of her chest with each breath, she could easily pass for a corpse.

With each hour that passes, he grows more and more worried that she'll never wake. That her eyes will never open and look at him, that he'll have to take his sword and plunge into her chest, kill her before she even has the chance to become a monster.

And with each tick of the clock, Greg's grin widens, and Killian _hates_ him.

Greg's almost shaking with excitement. Killian knows they've been standing there for a long time but he still has _hope_. And even as he thinks the word, she stirs and sits up, her face pale and clammy, yawning, but _awake_.

And the first thing she does is look up and smile, weakly, at him.

He just knows it's her, she's safe and she's strong and she did it.

He doesn't even realise it at first, but he's reaching down to help her up. She looks at him and his hand, and then she brushes it aside and pushes herself to her feet, stumbling only slightly and then standing tall and proud.

Killian doesn't know what he would have done if she'd slept for just a bit longer, if Greg had announced she'd been sleeping for too long and was too much of a risk. He's only been a Templar for a few days, but this woman is already making him question things that he had never doubted before.

But he has to grin at her. This time, when she smiles back, it's blinding. All he can do is blink at her, stare at her until he hears someone clearing their throat.

"It looks like you've passed." Regain says, looking and sounding far more disbelieving than Killian thought she had any right to. There were enough Templars, like Greg, hoping Emma would fail that she didn't need her own superior doubting too. "Well done."

Again, he sees Emma's mask falter slightly and he clenches his fist.

Then Regina holds out a silver ring, one he's seen on the finger of every mage who has passed the Harrowing. It's a beautiful ring, glowing more brightly due to the lyrium infused through the metal, shining even in the dimness of the room.

Emma's meant to take it, but he plucks it from Regina's hand before any of them have a chance to think it through. He sees Emma's brow furrow, stretching her hand out towards him but instead of giving her the ring, he finds himself taking her hand and then he slips it onto her finger himself.

"Ser Jones?" Regina asks, her tone scolding. "I know that you've only just joined our order, but remember your place."

But Emma's looking at him with wide eyes and an unsteady smile, and her hand is soft in his, and she looks more shaken now than she did when she first awoke.

He doesn't understand how anyone can be so beautiful.

"I could have done that myself, Ser." Emma tells him quietly, and she reaches down to move the ring to a different finger, giving him a steady, measuring look.

She's led away then, before he can do anything else idiotic, one templar gripping her arm and Regina striding alongside her.

Greg pulls him aside, his lip curled in a look of utter dislike. "What was that, Jones?" he hisses. "You know the rules. No fraternising. Not that you'd want to be seen with creatures like that, right?"

"They're people, Greg." he replies, ignoring the man's scoff of disbelief. "And I know the rules. I'm not some wide-eyed recruit anymore. I am well aware of what I can and cannot do."

But he looks after Emma again, and she's looking back at him, and she's smiling and when he's looking at her, he can't bring himself to care about the rules.

Except the vow he made wasn't just to the Templars, but to his god, so he can't break that promise. Not even if he wants to.

* * *

**So this is my new story. I hope you enjoyed it and I'd appreciate any reviews! My first priority is the False Queen so I don't know how regular updates will be. This AU is set in the universe of the Dragon Age games, by Bioware, but hopefully the world is understandable for those who haven't played the games!**

**Thank you to BlackDragon733 for beta-ing and NeverlandAwaitsUs for checking that I was getting things right! **


	2. Part 2

**Part 2**

Since his misstep at the Harrowing, Killian has been guarding the library. Nothing happens in the library, which is why he's been sent there. Knight-Commander David says that there's always a chance one of the mages will find something dangerous in a book and change into an abomination right there, but Killian thinks he only said that to cheer him up about his new station.

So he spends his days in the silence of the library, each turn of a page enough to shatter the quiet, and he just wishes for some more excitement. Or at least some noise.

What he does have are his thoughts to keep him occupied. He had sent a letter to Liam following the Harrowing, having needed to talk to someone, and he'd received a reply earlier in the day. His response hadn't been too helpful and had mainly included things Killian had already told himself.

That it was one encounter. That the doubts he had felt were more likely to be due to his nerves over his duty than because of the mage. That he had made his vows to the Maker and he couldn't renege on them. That he hadn't spent years training and studying to give everything up because of one night.

One mage, no matter how mesmerising, couldn't stop him from getting justice for Milah.

But it should be easier to put Emma from his mind when he hasn't seen her since the Harrowing. And yet he thinks about her constantly. Her smile, her strength, her hand in his. She's all he thinks about.

He had hoped Liam would understand, but Liam wrote that he had experienced no such temptation since his vow of chastity, since he swore himself to the Maker.

Liam was always the better brother.

"Do you realise you're standing in front of the Geography section, Ser?"

He hasn't been paying attention so the voice makes him jump. Killian turns towards the sound, and when he sees its _her_, he just finds himself gaping for a few seconds.

And he thinks, just for a second, that maybe she just wants to talk to him, because the Mages never read the Geography books. They read old elven tomes and research papers, they don't study maps. Except Emma points up to an Atlas, and he realises he was being stupidly hopeful again.

So he steps aside. "What area of magic do you specialise in?" He asks, and this time it's because _he_ just wants to talk to her.

"Primal magic." She answers absently, scanning the spines of the books in front of her. "Fire, Ice, Lightning. Things like that."

It doesn't surprise him that she can control the elements - that she's a force of nature. He considers asking more, but now she's on her tiptoes and reaching for the book she pointed to earlier, the tips of her fingers brushing it but just too far away to grab it and pull it from the shelf.

So he steps up behind her, tries to keep a proper distance even as she turns round to look at him, trapped between him and the books, and he reaches up to get the atlas. But he can't look away from her, their eyes are locked together, and he feels himself shuffle closer, even though he knows he shouldn't.

And then he notices she's breathing deeply, her breasts are actually heaving, and he shouldn't be doing this, so he snatches the book down and hands it to her and steps back, puts space between them.

What is he _doing_?

She hugs the book to her chest and starts to walk away and, although Killian knows he should let her go, he doesn't want to. "Why do you want that book?"

She stops and turns back to look at him, and then she shrugs. "I want to see the world." she answers quietly, and she steps back towards him. "And what is an atlas if not the entire world?"

Killian blinks quickly at her, trying to work out if he imagined the teasing note in her tone. And if he hasn't, what does it mean?

It shouldn't matter what it means, so he only smiles shakily at her. "A map doesn't let you see much of the world, other than how it's laid out."

"I don't remember life outside this place. I haven't had fresh air in years." she whispers, as if she shouldn't even be saying those words. "This is as close as I'm going to get."

She clutches the book tighter, but she doesn't walk away again. He knows he should leave now, because this is probably more of a conversation than he's allowed, but he doesn't want to stop talking to her. "Do you, um, would you like me to tell you what it's like out there?"

"You'd do that?"

Killian swallows and then he nods, watching Emma lean back against the bookshelves opposite him, enough of a distance between them so that if anyone walks by, they can pretend they're not talking.

"What do you want me to tell you?" he asks uncertainly. "Where should I start?"

She opens the atlas, and flicks through a few pages until she shows him a page with a map of their Circle and the surrounding area. "It says here that there's a lake only miles from here. And mountains. What's it like?"

"When it's good weather, it's beautiful." he states, remembering passing those places on his journey to the tower, before he chose to remain here and guard its inhabitants. "The lakes huge. If you stand at it's shore, you can barely see the other side. Just the mountains in the distance. The sun catches on the water and everywhere glitters. And it's all so green."

"It sounds beautiful." Emma murmurs, and she's looking at him and she looks enraptured. "Will you tell me more? What about where you lived, where you grew up? What was that place like?"

He watches as Emma glances around, and then she tilts her head towards one of the slightly more concealed alcoves. Nowhere's private enough for them to be hidden from others, but he doesn't care when she's looking at him like she wants to know _him_.

So he goes with her.

"Show me." she says when he sits, pushing the book towards him, and when he reaches for the page, to show her his home on the map, his little finger brushes hers.

She doesn't move away so after a quick glance around, he keeps his hand where it is, just touching hers, and uses his other hand to trace a path from the Circle to the small dot that represents his village. "Here. I live only two days ride from this place. It's not much to look at though. Not like the lake."

"Tell me anyway." she insists, her finger curling around his, a shy smile on her face when he glances at her. "I'd like to know."

"Well, there's a big Chantry in the centre of the village, so a lot of the homes are inhabited by the Brothers and Sisters that pray there. I suppose my house is too, now that my brother's sworn himself to the Maker." he tells her, and Emma cants her head, looks more intently at him. "It's not too small, but everyone who doesn't work in the Chantry attends the masses so all the villagers know one another. They all take care of each other. If someone loses someone, they'll step up and help and make sure no one's struggling."

Her eyes narrow, and he _knows_ he's said too much. He's not spoken about his home, or his past, with anyone since he left, and all Emma wanted to know about was the village, but what he had said was a much more personal memory of his home.

"It sounds like a really nice place." she says, and he can hear longing in her voice.

"It's not so bad here either." He says gently but she pulls her hand away, so they're not touching anymore, and he tries to smile weakly at her. "I may not get outside often but I get to see incredible things every day."

Emma swallows and she stands up, and Killian doesn't know what he's done to make her leave. "It's not incredible if it's all you ever see." she says, and her voice is low, angry and she's giving him a sad smile. "You're naive, Ser Jones. You see this place as a place of research and learning, but if that's all this place was, if it was 'not so bad', people wouldn't risk their lives trying to leave. You chose to be here. It's different for people like me."

He wants to reach out, wants to _hear_ her because she wants to say something, but she grabs the atlas and walks off before he can do anything.

And after taking a deep breath, and taking up his post again, he decides that it's for the better that she left him there.

* * *

**Thanks for reading! If you feel like reviewing, I'd love that! Thank you to everyone who added this to story-alert or to favourites, and a huge thank you to everyone who reviewed! I'm glad you seem to be enjoying it so far.**

**And thank you to BlackDragon733 for editing this with me!**


	3. Part 3

**Part 3**

He's shed his armour and is preparing for bed when he hears a knock on the door, an urgent pounding that he can't ignore even if he wishes he could.

It has to be important, because the man he shares his room with, another new templar called Smee, would enter without warning and Killian knows no one else well enough for them to be visiting him, especially at this time of night.

So he checks he's presentable - he is - and opens the door to see Knight-Commander Nolan standing with his fist raised to knock again. Killian stands to attention, raising a curious eyebrow at the older templar.

"Ser Nolan?" he prompts, when David doesn't speak, apparently thrown by the sudden door opening, hand still raised. "What's happened?"

"It's David, remember?" David says, finally lowering his arm back to his side, hand coming to rest casually on the hilt of his sword. "You know I hate all this title nonsense. Still, that's not what's important right now. May I?"

David tilts his head towards the door and Killian steps aside to let him in, feeling ridiculously nervous with the highest-ranked templar standing in his room and glancing about curiously, as if it is just a casual visit.

The Knight-Commander doesn't make casual visits, especially to those he rarely speaks to. It's known throughout the Circle that David works hard in order to earn long weekends away from the building, to spend time with his wife and son back near the capital, so Killian knows that David's visit has to be something serious.

For a second, he thinks David knows of his time spent with Emma, except surely her Harrowing and one other conversation aren't worthy of David's notice. However, there's nothing else he can think of that would explain the visit.

"A mage has run away." David states, and Killian's eyes widen. He's heard stories about it happening before, but it's not happened since he joined, and he thinks it's odd that David seems to need to tell him. "Gone from her bed chamber and certainly not inside the Circle."

"Do you want me to find her?" he asks. "To bring her back here for punishment?"

David takes a deep breath and then takes a seat on Smee's bed, gesturing for Killian to sit too. Killian does, his fingers tapping anxiously against his thigh as he waits for David to speak.

"Maybe." David answers eventually, and he's giving Killian a searching look that Killian doesn't understand. "It depends on what you say now. Greg believes this mage may have had inside help, and he suggested that it would have been you who might have helped her."

And Killian knows _exactly _who is missing, feeling his chest tightening in horror and his breath shortening. It's not because of the accusations towards him, because they're completely false, but the idea that Emma is out there in a world she knows nothing about. The only thing waiting for her out there is danger, but for a free mage, an apostate, the only things now waiting for her in the Circle are far worse.

He fears that she'll be brought back and subjected to the rite of tranquility, a process that will strip her of her connection to the fade and leave only a shell of a human being behind.

"Emma?" he confirms, David's slight nod enough of an answer. "I can assure you I had nothing to do with her escape. I made my vows to the maker and I would never break them for a woman I've barely spoken to."

David smiles slightly at his response and then leans closer to Killian, resting his elbows on his knees and giving him an intense, questioning look. "I thought that would be the case. I was, however, of the belief that perhaps you knew where she might go. After all, I've heard that she's talked to you and that's more than you can say for most of the people in this tower."

"I don't." Killian says, and he's determinedly not thinking of anything she said in the library, with the atlas in front of them. He may have made his vows, but part of him doesn't want to consider any possible destination without certainty that she'll be safe, should she return. "We only talked once, twice if you include a few words at the Harrowing, but nothing against the rules."

"I wasn't going to reprimand you for that." David laughs. "It's not forbidden to talk to the mages, even if many of the recruits frown on it. But they're people too, and they live in the same place as us so I don't believe that it's necessary to keep our distance. There just needs to be _enough _of a distance so that if necessary, you can kill them."

Killian already knows he can't kill Emma.

"If we find her, what's going to happen?" Killian asks cautiously. "It's her first time escaping. The punishment can't be too severe if we find her before anything happens, can it?"

"She won't be made tranquil." David says, as if it's reassuring. It _is_, but Killian needs to know that he won't be bringing her back to the Circle for her to die. "It's my decision to make anyone tranquil, and First Enchanter Regina has to agree. That rite is a final option, Killian, not something we do for one mistake. However, Regina is insisting that, should we find Emma, it's likely she will have already fallen prey to a demon and our best option will be to kill her."

"No." Killian says desperately, trying to reign in his emotions when David's eyebrows climb up his forehead. "Emma's strong. I was at her Harrowing. If she only left today, we _will_ find her before anything happens. Emma doesn't deserve an execution."

"I'll talk to Regina but I can't guarantee anything." David says with a sigh, running a hand through his hair and looking exhausted. "Regina has always hated Emma, and with Emma now an apostate, Regina doesn't need to defend her position. I do."

"Why?" Killian questions. "Why does she hate Emma?"

"Emma's powerful." David explains with a roll of his eyes, and Killian can't hide a smirk when he sees dislike for the First Enchanter written all over David's face. "She always has been. Regina's one of the youngest First Enchanters ever, and she fought hard to get that position. Emma has the potential to be greater, and Regina doesn't like that."

Killian doesn't think that's a great reason to _kill _someone, but it's not the first time he's heard rumours of Regina's ruthlessness. However, it's the first time he's been told such information from a reputable source, as Greg's statement on any mage tended to be poisoned by his hatred of them.

"You should still try." Killian says quietly. "Because surely you would feel better to know that you hadn't executed an innocent woman. But I'll find her. I'll find Emma, and I'll bring her back."

He doesn't say that he's already warring with himself over what he'll do if Regina doesn't change her mind.

David stands from the bed and peers down at him, and there's a sad, understanding smile on his face that Killian hates. David has to know. He clearly realises there's something between Killian and Emma, something that even Killian can't understand but is making him hesitant to ever risk hurting her.

Even if it's necessary.

"Be careful, Killian." David says just before he opens the door to leave. "Talking to her is fine, but not even I can ignore it if it becomes anything more. She's still a mage, she's still different and she's still dangerous and we all swore to protect the world from people like that. I'm sorry."

Killian gapes after him, unsure what to say, watching the door slowly close. Someone grabs it before it can click shut, and Killian frowns when David peers around the door, a sheepish smile on his face. "A group of us will lead the search tomorrow, leaving at sunrise. You want to find her, make sure to be there."

Killian nods and turns away before the door clicks shut, burying his head in his hands and wondering how everything became such a mess. How did one woman, a mage at that, entrance him so much that the thought of doing his _duty _is so horrifying?

And he knows it can't be magic, because Emma is too strong to make deals with demons, to do the terrible things that a mage has to do to gain power and influence over another's mind.

The thing that upsets him the most, although he knows it shouldn't, is that he should have figured she would do something like this. All she had talked of was seeing the world, had spoken longingly of the lands outside the Circle, and _he should have known_.

He's failed in his duty, but all he thinks of when he lays his head on his pillow is that he hopes she gets to see the lake and mountains that he told her of, that she gets to see something beautiful before he's forced to bring her back.

He doesn't want to bring her back. Not really. Not when he knows what people risk to leave, how much they must want to escape, how much _Emma _must have wanted to escape.

Killian wishes he could give her the freedom she clearly wants, but he can't turn his back on everything, can't put the world in danger for one woman who makes him feel things he shouldn't feel.

One woman who makes him question everything.

That night he dreams of what will happen when they find her, has nightmares of her kneeling before him, his sword pressed against her breast, piercing her heart so that she collapses in a pool of red. Nightmares of her being made tranquil, the Fade becoming unreachable to her, making her something passive and emotionless. Terrible, horrendous visions of her kissing him because he told her to and she no longer has the capacity to say no. Even worse images of it being Greg to manipulate her, to persuade her into doing things she would never do before the rite of tranquility ripped her personality away.

He wakes in a cold sweat, disgusted by his own dreams and desperate to do anything to save her from that. And he _knows_, without any uncertainty, that if David tells him that Regina's mind is unchanged, he won't come back.

He'll risk anything to save her and he wishes he knew why.

* * *

**So, here's another chapter of this! Thank you to everyone who reviewed/favourited/added to story alert! Just so you know, these chapters will tend to be around this length, not like the long chapters of my previous fics. And as for updating, I don't know if there'll be regular updates. Still, I hope you enjoyed this - reviews would be appreciated!**

**Thank you to BlackDragon733 for beta-ing!**


	4. Part 4

**Part 4**

The small group of Templars have been travelling for only a few days when they find her. Knight-Commander David had led the search, Emma's phylactery glowing around his neck with every step closer to her.

When Killian had seen the small vial of blood hanging from a chain, he had realised that even if he let her go, the Templars would always find her. That was a the point of a phylactery, a glass vial filled with the blood of an apprentice mage. To ensure that they could never run, never be a danger to the world.

It's only now that it's Emma, now that he's _seen _it in use, that he knows she'll never be free because the Templars will _always_ be able to find her.

She's sitting on a fallen tree, Greg standing stoically beside her, her hands bound in rope. Killian's in charge of talking to the man who turned her in, a peasant named Walsh. "She asked for my help, said she wanted a room for the night." Walsh was explaining, Killian trying to look as if he was paying attention, but the only thing he could think of was whether or not she was alright.

Greg had handled her pretty roughly when he tied her up and shoved her towards the tree.

"Sorry? What was that?" Killian asks, when he notices that Walsh's hand is outstretched towards him.

"I said that I told her that I would help, but I knew it was too dangerous to let her stay in the village." Walsh says slowly, and Killian wonders absently how many time he's already repeated the sentence. "I figured it was better to lie and keep her in one place, so that you could find her. Do I get a reward?"

"If you were going to turn her in, did you really need to deceive her like that?" he hisses, but he's rummaging through one of the satchel's to find some gold, because as despicable as he finds the man's actions, it's his duty to reward him for his help. "Here. Go and buy yourself some decency."

He doesn't give Walsh a chance to respond, just drops the gold into his hand, a few of the coins tumbling to the ground, and Killian walks away when Walsh stoops to collect them.

He goes straight to Emma, who is now being spoken to by David, and Killian is relieved to see that Greg has been sent to stand somewhere else. He doesn't mind what Greg's doing as long as he's nowhere near Emma.

"What did you think was going to happen?" David was asking, and Killian stays a respectful distance away, not wanting to intrude on their conversation. "How did you think this would end, Emma?"

"I don't know." Emma says, and her back is straight and her voice is strong, and she's _incredible_. "I thought if I followed this road, maybe I would -"

She looks up and her gaze meets Killian's and she just stops talking, and David glances between the two of them with a mixture of exasperation and resignation. And then he walks away, and Killian doesn't think of the other Templars, because Emma's _there _and she's _alive _and the way she's looking at him makes breathing difficult.

"This road goes to my village." he says quietly, and she nods. "I showed you, when we talked in the library. Is that where you were going?"

She doesn't answer the question, she merely shrugs. He sighs, crosses the short distance between them to sit down beside her, and if she inhales shakily when his shoulder brushes against hers, he ignores it. He looks at her, and when she meets his gaze again, he thinks he can see _betrayal _in her eyes.

"Are you going to watch my execution, then?" she asks casually, but he can see the tremor that runs through her when she asks.

"That's not going to happen." He replies, and she quirks an eyebrow in question. "I convinced the First Enchanter that an execution wasn't necessary. You'll have to sit through a week in solitary confinement, but after that, everything will be back to normal."

"I wish you hadn't done that." she murmurs, so quiet he has to lean in to hear her. "I'd rather be dead than back at the Circle."

"Was it worth it?" he questions carefully, reaching one hand out to run his finger across the coarse rope tied around her wrists. "Was it really worth risking your life for a couple of days outside?"

"Yes." she says, and then her face softens and her lips quirk into a gentle, wistful smile that dazzles him for a minute. "You know, Ser Jones, I saw the lake. It really was beautiful, like you said it was."

He smiles back, starting to fiddle with the knot of the rope, wanting to free her from their confines. He knows she's not a danger. "I'm glad. I hoped you would get the chance for that." he whispers, feeling the knot come apart as he nimbly unties the rope, the heavy cord dropping to the floor.

He runs his thumb carefully along the red marks on her skin, trying to quell his anger at how tightly Greg tied the rope, Emma's shallow breathing distracting him from glaring at his fellow templar.

"He told me he'd help me." she says quietly, and when he glances up at her, he sees she's looking at Walsh, who appears to be asking other templars for further rewards. "I didn't realise he only wanted money, that he was always planning to turn me in. You made it sound so wonderful out here, I never realized that trusting anyone was a bad idea."

He smiles sadly, watching as she shifts her hand to take his own, lacing their fingers together and he doesn't know what is happening, but he doesn't want to let go. He doesn't even care that the other Templars are so close, that if David sees them, he'll realise that Killian already cares too much.

"You can trust me." he promises, leaning nearer to her and then she's so _close_. He expects her to move away, but she doesn't, she stays still and her eyelids flutter and he doesn't know what he feels for her, but it's too much and it doesn't make sense. Not when he's only spoken to her twice.

But her cheeks are flushed and her eyes are wide and beautiful and he thinks maybe she feels something too. "Can I?" she breathes, and he keeps his gaze locked on hers, letting her search his eyes for whatever it is she's looking for.

And then he feels someone else staring at him and tugs his hand away from hers, shuffles back so there's space between them. It's David, and he looks so disappointed, shaking his head slightly, but he doesn't come over to them.

Killian _should _have kept his distance, because he had known from the second he saw her that there was something about her that called to him, that made it impossible for him to ever knowingly harm her. But when she's around, he's drawn to her. He wants to talk to her, to _know _her.

So even now, when David knows that he's already far too attached, Killian doesn't move away. He just turns back to Emma, and she's already looking at him, and there's something in her eyes that he can't read.

But then she reaches up towards him, her fingers tracing his face, running along his cheekbones until she's cupping his face in her hands, and he doesn't know what's happening, he can barely draw breath, not with her touching him like this. He leans down, his forehead resting against hers, and if he thought they were close before, it was nothing compared to this, and _what is happening to him_?

"You _can _trust me." He whispers, watching her eyes fall closed when he speaks. He can feel her breath, warm and comforting against his skin. "I know what I am, what I've promised to do, but I despise the thought of ever hurting you." And Emma nudges even closer, her nose brushing his and it feels like far too much, but he doesn't want her to back away.

He wants her closer, but this is already wrong.

"Why?" she asks. "I know what I am too."

He doesn't know why, but he's speaking before he has time to think about what he wants to say. "All I want is to see you smile again, the way you smiled at me after your Harrowing, when I helped you up." He _really _doesn't know what he's saying but he knows he means every single word, and from the overwhelmed look on Emma's face, she knows it too. He lowers his voice, so quiet that even _he _can barely hear himself. "That smile was so beautiful."

And his words may have been quiet, but he can tell Emma heard them, because she smiles weakly, shakily, and she rubs her thumb gently across his cheek again and nudges his nose and then she backs away, hands dropping back to her sides.

He hears David calling, and it's only when he hears the word 'lyrium' that he looks away from Emma, because he hadn't thought about, but now that he's remembered, he _needs _the lyrium, because it's been so long since he last took it, and the doses are regulated by the Chantry.

If he doesn't have it now, he might not get another chance until the next day.

He jumps to his feet, because it's almost as if the lyrium is _singing_ to him, but then he feels Emma's hand, warm around his wrist, and he turns back to look down at her. She's frowning, a sad, understanding smile on her face. "I don't want to go back. I want to be _free_, Ser Jones." He raises an eyebrow, unsure what she wants to say. "The last time we spoke, I said you were naive. That you didn't understand what it was like to be in the Circle, because you chose to be there. But I don't think you're free either. Not really."

And he doesn't want to ask her what she means, doesn't want her to explain, because he thinks he knows, what with the way he feels a desperate urge to leave her, to go and take the potion that makes him what he is, makes him a Templar.

Then David calls again and Emma lets his wrist go and, for only a second, he hesitates. But the lyrium is calling him and he leaves her side.

* * *

**And another chapter - these are short, so I can write them quickly when I'm procrastinating! (Although, I doubt I'll get another chapter up until Thursday or Friday, because I do have to do work at some point!) Anyway, thank you to all the reviewers, as well as anyone who added it to favourites or story alerts. I hope you enjoy it - reviews are always appreciated!**

**Thank you BlackDragon733 for editing with me! **


	5. Part 5

**Part 5**

It's been two days since they brought Emma back to the Circle - two days of not seeing her. And, of course he hasn't seen her, because she's trapped in a room and forbidden from seeing anyone other than the back of the templar guarding the door, but he really wants to.

He feels almost as if he needsto, because after the way she had touched him, and looked at him, he knows it's not just him feeling _whatever _it is that he's feeling. He wants to see her, to take her hands in his again, to talk to her and comfort her and make sure she's alright.

He _needs_ to know she's alright.

So he decides to walk past the room she's being kept in. He's off duty, he has the time to wander by and talk casually with whoever is on guard.

When he gets there, it's Smee, slumped over and looking utterly bored, and an idea forms in his mind that he can't get rid of, doesn't _want _to get rid of.

"Smee?" he asks, chuckling when the man jerks to attention and attempts to look as though he's been standing tall the whole time. "Don't worry, I've been sent to relieve you. Apparently, Knight-Commander David thought you could do with a break."

It's a lie, and if David finds out, Killian doesn't even want to consider how much trouble he'll be in. Except Smee is already walking off and Killian finds that he doesn't care what happens. Not now.

He peers through the small barred window into the dimly lit room to see Emma sat on the edge of her bed, hands tangled together, eyes closed. He doesn't want to think about how dull it must be, to spend entire days alone in one room.

But for a few minutes, he really does just do the job he wrangled from Smee's hands. He stands stiffly in front of the door, one hand resting on the pommel of his sword, and he thanks the Maker that, as bored as Emma looks, she's not hurt. No Templar has taken advantage of her solitude, no Templar has hurt her.

Except she's so close, and he wants to know her, wants her to know him, wants to try and understand what he feels for her.

So he turns back to look, once again, through the window.

"Emma?" He asks, and her head jolts up, and her eyes open and meet his, her lips parting slightly. "How are you?"

She doesn't answer - she only shrugs - but she doesn't look away from him. He licks his lips nervously, which seems to catch her attention, and then she stands from the bed and hurries across the room until she's so close, the only thing separating them is the heavy wooden door.

"Why are you here?" Emma whispers. "Surely the Knight-Commander wouldn't put _you_ in charge of watching me."

"No, but I convinced Smee otherwise." He admits and she grins. And, of course, her smile is breathtaking. "I wanted to know you were alright"

Her smile softens and her hand rises to take hold of one of the bars separating them. "I'm fine." She murmurs, and her eyelashes flutter as she leans just slightly closer to him. "I'm better now you're here."

His breath catches, because she's _bolder_ now, and the smile dancing on her lips is new and alluring and _wonderful. _

He doesn't think when he tries the door handle, and it feels like a miracle when the door opens for him - except it's not, because the door is only locked when no Templar can guard, so that should she try anything, she can be stopped instantly.

And now the door is open and her eyes are wide, and he didn't plan this at all, but he's suddenly so very happy that he's here and that she's here too.

"Ser Jones?" She questions, stepping back to let him pass into the room. "What is it you want?"

"I'm not sure." He admits hoarsely, and his answer seems to please her. She goes back to where she was sitting before, perched on the side of her bed and she pats the space next to her.

He joins her.

"So," he begins anxiously, when they've been sitting in silence for just a bit too long, Emma having taken to toying with his fingers. "How long have you been here, at the Circle?"

Her hands still, now just holding his fingers loosely and she looks up at him cautiously. He smiles down at her, wanting to comfort her but wanting her to tell him, because he wants to know her past, wants to know all the small details that have made her into the person sitting beside him.

"Since I was six." She answers carefully, and he doesn't want to react but he does because that's so _young _and he knows most parents wait until their children are ten or so before letting the Circle take them away. "I showed magic early. The orphanages weren't going to let me take up space that they could give to someone else, not when the Circle would take me out of their hands. They sent me straight here, the Templars took my blood and showed me to my room and that was it. I never left. Not until..."

He frowns, imagining a tiny little girl, a little Emma, being held down for her blood to be taken, taken so that she would always be trapped by the Templars, and he hates the thought.

He _hates_ what he is.

"I was six when my father abandoned me." He offers, and starts slightly when he feels Emma rest her head on his shoulder and take his hand firmly in hers. "My brother was sixteen, old enough to raise me, so I didn't get sent to an orphanage. He lived in the Chantry because he was training to be a Cleric, and when my father left, Liam persuaded the Chantry to take me in and look after me."

"What does a Cleric do?"

"He's basically a glorified librarian." Killian explains with a chuckle, and Emma laughs too and the sound is incredible. "Although Liam would kill me if he heard that. Liam works hard, but the Chantry is mostly run by women and he's pretty much as high up as he can be at his age."

"So you wanted to work for the Chantry too, because of what they did for you?" Emma asks, and Killian nods because that's what he tells himself. That's why he should be doing this, because of the Chantry and because of what he believes. "And you became a Templar because you wanted to do more for them?"

And he glances down at Emma and she looks so interested that he _has_ to tell her the truth, has to tell her something he's never said out loud to anyone.

"I didn't want to become a Templar." he admits, tightening his hold on her hand. "Not at first. I wanted to be like Liam. Clerics and Templars start with the same training, learning how to read and write, learning the Chants, so it wasn't as if I _needed _to decide. But I wanted to be like him."

"What changed?" Emma asks quietly. "What happened?"

"There was this woman." he begins, and he's tried for years to block out the memories, tried and _failed_, but he wants Emma to know. He needs to know what happened, what made him choose this life. "Milah. She would come to the Chantry every Sunday with her son, and she would pray. And I was only fourteen, but she was kind to me, and it wasn't because I was the lost boy abandoned to the Sisters but because she was just _kind_. But her husband didn't like her visiting the Chantry. One day, he even came and dragged her home, yelling at her to never come back. She didn't listen. She kept coming, and she would bring food and clothes for me because the Chantry couldn't afford to provide them, and she was wonderful. And one day, she never showed up. I thought, maybe, she'd finally agreed to her husband's demands. I was still young, I didn't…"

"What happened?" Emma repeats, and she moves away from his side to stand in front of him, her hand cupping his cheek and tilting his head back so he's looking at her, her other hand in his hair. "Tell me."

"Her son, Baelfire. He came to me one day and said she had changed, that she wasn't herself anymore. I went to see what was happening but even then, I didn't understand. I saw how he could tell her to do _anything_ and she'd do it without question and she looked so _empty_. I knew something was wrong, but I didn't know what. I told Liam and he told one of the Templars stationed in my village, except her husband somehow found out and the next time Baelfire came to see me, he told me to stop spreading rumours and lies, only... he _looked _like her. He looked as empty as she had looked. Then the Templars raided their home, but Baelfire and his father were already gone. Milah, though… I don't know who he killed to take control of her, but I know exactly who he killed to take control of his son. They found her, heart ripped from her chest for him to use in his blood magic. And she was a good person, Emma. She was so kind, and she cared for me, looked after me when no one else had the time to do so, and he killed her because he wanted power. I couldn't let that happen to other people. I wanted to become a Templar so I could stop people like that _monster_ from killing people and controlling people the way he did."

And Emma's just looking down at him, and he doesn't know what to expect because he's never told anyone the whole story. He licks his lip, tries to read her face, and then he realises that she _knows _he's not done yet, that she can tell that isn't everything.

He swallows and pushes her hand away, makes sure he can look down. "I should have become a Templar because of my faith, because it's the Maker's work and the Maker saved me when I could have had nothing. But I didn't. The only reason I became a Templar was so I had the power to stop him. Only him." Her hand's running through his hair now, soothing him and he hadn't intended to speak of this when he came to see her, but Emma brings out things in him that he still doesn't understand. "One day, I want to find the man who killed Milah. I want to find Rumplestiltskin and I want to bring him to the Chantry and make sure he's executed for his crimes."

"One day?" Emma says quietly, and he looks back up at her, and she's the sun in the dimmed room and he just _feels_.

"I can't go now, can I?" he mutters, reaching up to tangle his hand in her golden hair. "Not now that I've found you."

She sighs, and then bends down and wraps her arms around him, and he responds by sliding his arms around her waist and tugging her close, burying his face in his neck and relaxing, finding comfort in her warmth, in _her. _And he thinks, maybe, she kisses his hair, but he isn't sure.

For a few minutes, he enjoys being with her, being _close _to her in a way he has only dreamed of, and then she pulls back. "I only ran away because I realised I'd forgotten what fresh air felt like." she says slowly. "That if I didn't get out, the only thing I would know would be the stuffiness of this place."

"One day, you'll be free, Emma." he promises and she shakes her head, a frown on her face. "Because if being free is what you want, then I want it too. I will find a way to free you."

"That's sweet." she whispers, and he knows she doesn't believe him. He can't blame her. But she bends down and kisses his cheek, her lips lingering on his skin, and his heart pounds furiously in his chest. "Now go. Because one day, you'll find him, but that won't happen if you're found in here with me. I doubt even Knight-Commander David could talk himself out of punishing you for this."

She steps back to give him space to stand up, and he takes a moment to run his hand across her cheek, watching Emma's eyes flutter closed at the touch, and then he leaves without a word.

He never wants to leave her side, but he knows that he can't stay.

* * *

**So it turns out that when I have work that urgently needs to gets done, I write this instead. I don't know when the next chapter will be, but probably sometime soon! Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, or who added this to favourites or story alerts.**

**Thank you to BlackDragon733 for editing (especially after I told her not to help me until after my work was done!)**


	6. Part 6

**Part 6**

War is spreading through the world, and the darkness it brings can be felt even in the isolation of the Circle. Because it's no ordinary war. It's a Blight, and that means corruption infecting the land, crops failing, rivers drying, the disease spreading as the monstrous darkspawn come to the surface.

And such horror can last for years.

Yet it feels strangely distant, because although Killian knows of the battles raging outside the Circle, it's barely talked about within the tower walls.

He worries sometimes, for his brother, for his village and his home, because he dreads finding out that it has been destroyed, the Blight changing it into something undead and quiet and horrible.

But most days, things in the Circle go on as usual. That is, until the Grey Wardens come. There aren't many of them, a small army of eleven or so, but Killian knows the stories, knows that they are rumoured to be the only warriors capable of stopping a Blight, have the power to conscript anyone they deem worthy, no matter their standing. And seeing them there, in the Entrance Hall of the Circle, is the first time that the Blight really seems _real_, because they wouldn't be here, wouldn't be wanting a mage to join their ranks if the world wasn't really ending.

The Wardens are treated like royalty, Knight-Commander David insisting on giving them the best rooms and the best meals, and David seems ridiculously nervous whenever he talks to their leader, a man Killian only knows as Ser Locksley.

Ser Locksley, luckily for David, spends most of his time away from the Templars, walking around the Circle and talking to the mages. Killian notices he spends rather more time than necessary in discussion with the First Enchanter, because surely they won't be recruiting her. The Grey Wardens _may _have the right to conscript anyone they choose, but surely there are other talented mages they could pick before removing Regina from her position.

Killian's on patrol, _all _the Templars are, because David seems to think that if there was ever going to be a sudden outbreak of blood magic, it would be when the Grey Wardens were visiting. David may be the most optimistic man Killian knows, but he is also a worrier.

Killian turns a corner and then feels someone take hold of his wrist and tug him into a nearby storage cupboard. It's a small room, and it's dark and full of what looks like textbooks, but Killian doesn't care because it's _Emma_ who is holding his wrist, who has pulled him aside.

"Emma." he breathes, reaching with his free hand to brush some of her hair away from her face. She releases his wrist and takes his hand instead, "Emma, darling, what is it?"

She blinks at him, and he doesn't know why she's looking so wide-eyed because she pulled _him _into the cupboard. "Well, I just wanted to know who these visitors are." she says eventually, but she's still looking pleasantly surprised. "It's not as if we usually get men visiting and talking to us and asking us about our magic as if it's not something to be ashamed of."

"They're Grey Wardens." He says, and she simply looks confused. "They're here to recruit one of you, to help them fight in the Blight."

"As in the Blight from the Chantry's stories?" she asks, and he nods. To his shock, she sits down, back against the shelves, and tugs at his hand until he's beside her. "Tell me the stories again. I may actually pay attention when it's you."

He smiles fondly down at her, his heart stopping when she leans towards him and adjusts his arm so it's around her shoulders, holding her to him. "I suppose I could tell you." he says slowly, and Emma nudges him with her elbow, and he _likes _this. He wishes they weren't hidden away in a cupboard, but he likes how she's letting him hold her, how she _wants _him to hold her, and she makes him want so many things that he _knows _he can never have. "So, the Chantry teaches that it was hundreds of years ago that the First Blight happened. The mage rulers of Tevinter wanted to take over the Golden City, the afterlife created by the Maker, but instead they were forced out, corrupted and turned into monsters. Into Darkspawn. They then searched for the Old Gods until they found one, but their darkness corrupted him too and he became an Archdemon, rising from the ground to bring the Blight to the world. And although he was defeated, more Old Gods remained to be corrupted and turned against the world."

"Do you think that story is true?" Emma wonders. "If it really is the fault of the mages?"

"I believe in the Chant." he reminds Emma, who sighs. "But whether or not it's _true_, or if it's just allegory, I don't know. Even if it was mages who created such damnation, that was hundreds of years ago. It's unfair to blame mages now for the sins of the past."

"And these Grey Wardens, they can stop the Blight?" Emma says, after brushing her lips to his cheek, something that makes his breath hitch. "How?"

"I don't know how. They're pretty secretive about all of that." Killian tells her with a chuckle. "But they've stopped every Blight so far. Once they manage to kill the Archdemon, the Blight's pretty much over. History tells us that the Darkspawn are useless without a dragon to control them."

"So they're here to recruit a mage, fight the Blight and then what? Does the mage come back here?" she questions, and there's an underlying urgency to her question that fills him with worry.

"I believe that once you're a Grey Warden, that's it." He tells her and she's biting her lip and her eyes are brightening. He knows _exactly _what she's thinking, but he's not allowing himself to consider it. "I don't think the mages need to return."

And Emma exhales shakily, kisses his cheek again and stands up, leaving Killian sat alone on the floor. "Being a Grey Warden might be fun." she tells him, and then she leaves the cupboard, leaves him by himself.

And then he knows exactly what he can do, even though the thought of Emma being forced into war is horrifying. But he promised he'd find a way to free her, and this _will_. The Grey Wardens will take her out of the Circle, take her to see the world, and he may not like the danger it would put her in, but he knows Emma would choose the life of a Warden over a life in here.

He can give that to her.

So that evening, once he's finally off-duty, he joins Ser Locksley and the other Wardens for a card game and a few drinks.

They tell Killian so many stories, apparently happy to have someone new to narrate to. It turns out Ser Locksley has a wife and son living months away, a family from before he joined the Grey Wardens, but with the Blight, he fears he will never see them again.

Will Scarlet joined reluctantly, conscripted by Ser Locksley only moments before he was due to be hanged for stealing.

Apparently, they thought Mulan was a man for months until Little John forgot to knock one day. They don't go into more detail with that story, Mulan forbids it, but Killian gets the gist.

And they speak of so many places and kingdoms and adventures and Killian knows he is doing the right thing.

The life they speak of is something that Emma would want.

And Killian doesn't drink, so he feels more and more awkward as the troop (or as Ser Locksley calls them, the Merry Men) get louder and drunker. But he stays and he smiles, and the moon is high in the sky when Ser Locksley turns to him.

"I want to recruit Regina." Ser Locksley states, surprisingly serious and sober. "She's powerful and disciplined and exactly what we need right now. But you work here and you know her better than I do so I want your opinion. We can only recruit one, and I don't want to take the wrong person with me."

Killian tries to quell his smile - because this is the opportunity he desperately wanted. "Don't take Regina." He says confidently, and Ser Locksley's smile fades. "She is everything you said she was, true, but it's because of all those qualities that she is the First Enchanter here at the Circle. It's a prestigious, important role, and it's not a position that can be empty, especially in times like now, with this Blight."

Ser Locksley grimaces, and for a brief moment, Killian wonders if maybe there's more to why he wants Regina to join his group, except surely not, because Ser Locksley has talked of nothing but his wife and son all evening. "Who would you suggest?"

And Killian takes a deep breath, because if Ser Locksley listens to him, if he agrees, he'll take Emma with him, take her away, and there's little chance Killian will ever see her again. He doesn't know how or when it happened, perhaps the first time he saw her, but he cares for Emma so much and the thought of saying goodbye _hurts_.

But he has the chance to give Emma everything she wants, and he can't deny her that just because he wants to be selfish.

"There's a mage called Emma. You should consider her." He says, and he hopes his voice isn't shaking because although he's certain he's doing the right thing, he's still sending her off to a war that may not end for years. "She's a force of nature. Her magic is primal, it's fire and lightning and ice and if you need someone to fight, she can do it. If you recruit anyone, it should be her."

And Ser Locksley stares at him for a few minutes, and then he nods. "I'll talk to her. If I think she has the potential, I'll recruit her tomorrow."

Killian smiles weakly, nods, and then stands from the table. He can't sit and play nice anymore, not now he's done as much as he can. If he's succeeded, he'll know tomorrow.

He'll know because Emma will be gone.

* * *

**Yeah, so we're getting to the angstier parts of this fic now. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter - reviews are always appreciated! Thanks for the reviews, favourites and alerts!**

**And thank you to BlackDragon733 for editing this!**


	7. Part 7

**Part 7**

It's been a full day since he talked to Robin, and he's seen no sign of Emma. Usually, he doesn't see her every day - it's a big tower, and they aren't supposed to be together often anyway - but today, he _needed_ to see her. Killian wanted to know what was happening, if she was leaving.

But he's seen no sign of her, and as he prepares for bed, slowly taking off each piece of armour, he despairs that their talk in the storage cupboard may be the last time they ever exchange words.

And then there's a knock on the door and he feels anxiety flood through him, because the last time someone visited him, Emma was _gone_, and he fears this time he'll hear the same. Except she'll be gone because she's free, because the Grey Wardens recruited her, and he'll have no reason for going after her.

He shouldn't even _want _to go after her.

Except maybe _after_ is the wrong word, because what he really wants is to be _with _her.

Realising he's been thinking instead of opening the door, especially since whoever it is is _still_ knocking, he gives up on taking off the rest of his armour. Still wearing the chest piece, he strides over and throws the door open, eyes widening when it's _Emma_.

She looks nervous, anxious in a way that he hasn't seen since before her Harrowing, wringing her hands together and looking at the floor. "I'm going to be a Grey Warden." she tells him quietly.

"I figured." he says, reaching out to pull her inside his room so that no one will see her standing in his doorway. "I thought you wanted that."

She finally looks up at him, her eyebrows creasing into a frown, and he doesn't understand why she looks so upset. "Did you do this?"

"Yes."

He doesn't understand her response, but her eyes harden and she draws her lips into a thin line, dropping her arms to her sides, hands tightly clenched into fists. "Oh, well, thank you."

"Right, well, you're welcome." he replies awkwardly, suddenly horrified that maybe she was joking, that maybe he read her _completely _wrong and she doesn't want the life he's forced upon her. "You'll be leaving the Circle soon then, I suppose?"

"What do you want?" she says, her voice low and angry. "What do you want in return?"

He blinks at her, utterly confused because she has _never _acted like this, not with him. "I just want you to be happy, Emma."

Her frown deepens, and she's looking at him as though she doesn't believe a word he's saying and Killian has no idea why. "Really? Are you sure?" He only nods, not wanting to say another word, not when it seems that he could upset her with one wrong utterance. "You can't be serious. You must want something. They always want something."

She's shaking now, but he finally understands, has heard terrible stories of Templars using their power to manipulate mages into doing things for them. Stories of men who do kind deeds solely so that they can use their actions to attempt to guilt mages into returning the favour, things the mages would refuse to do if they weren't asked by men who had the ability to label them as criminals and kill them without being questioned. "All I want is to know that being with the Grey Wardens will make you happy. You came to me, isn't it obvious I don't want anything in return? I never intended to use my actions as though they were a debt that needed to be repaid. I really, truly just wish for your happiness, Emma."

She stares at him and stays where she is, doesn't go to the door and walk away, and he's so glad because he doesn't know if he could bear it if _this _was their last conversation, if she left doubting him.

He exhales and takes a seat on his bed, gesturing towards Smee's so that Emma knows she's welcome to sit down too, but she doesn't move. "Emma, darling, tell me what's wrong."

"Don't call me that." she bites out, and she's still uncertain and he doesn't know what has happened to make her like this, but something must have happened in the past day to make her so distrusting of him. "I'm _not _your darling."

He hadn't realised he'd called her that, the word must have slipped out subconsciously, but he apologises. She relaxes slightly at his sorry and takes a couple of small steps towards him.

"I'm sorry." she whispers. "You know the stories… and when I told Elsa about the Grey Wardens and what I thought you had done, for me, she just... Elsa's been hurt before, at her old Circle, and it just made me doubt that this could be real. Because, _this_, whatever it is, it doesn't make sense. And it just seemed that maybe, maybe you weren't different, maybe this wasn't what I thought it was, and for you to do something that meant _so much _to me… I guess it just seemed too good to be true."

Killian doesn't know who Elsa is, and he can't even begin to imagine what might have happened to her, what someone could have done, but he doesn't want to dwell on it, not when he's losing Emma forever and this is probably his only chance to say goodbye. "This doesn't make sense to me either, but when I promised to free you, that day when I visited you in solitary, I meant it." he promises, and Emma takes another small step closer. "I want you to see the world, to leave this place, even if we have to say goodbye."

She steps even closer, and he's nervous so he stands up too and they're _so _close, his chest almost touching hers, neck bent so he can gaze down at her. She's trembling, biting her lip and her eyes are wide, tearful. "You really mean it?"

"Don't you trust me?" His voice is low, quieter than a whisper, and she leans forward to hear him, her hand curling around the metal collar of his armour.

"Yes."

He smiles at her, and her gaze softens and she smiles tremulously back, one tear escaping her. "When you say goodbye," he begins, choked slightly at the thought of such finality, "When you leave, call me Killian. I don't want to be Ser Jones, not with you."

She sobs, and he knows that this is it, their one chance to say goodbye. He had known that before, known when he opened the door to her, but with her here, he had begun to wish that perhaps this wasn't the end for them, except he knows that it is. It has to be.

He feels her tug him closer, and she's stronger than he expected, and then she's brushing her lips across his and he can't breathe, he can't react, he can't do anything. Not when she's kissing him and it feels like he's on fire, like he's taking his first breath.

Their lips part but their faces stay close, noses touching, eyes closed. "Thank you." she breathes, each word a puff of warm air against his lips. "_Thank you_, Killian."

And then they're kissing again but it's deeper - tongues meeting, his hands buried in her hair and holding her to him, her hand on his waist. Killian's kissed girls before, he's stolen kisses behind the village Chantry, even shared a couple of quick, awkward tumbles in bed with a girl back in his village, but it's never been like this. He's never felt on fire before, and maybe it's just Emma because he knows she can light things on fire with choice words and hand movements, but all she needs to do is touch him and he's aflame.

She's _destroying _him and he's letting her, because this, holding her in his arms, his lips on hers, is _everything._

He wants to kiss her everywhere, wants to tell her exactly how he feels, except _he _doesn't know how he feels, so he pulls her even closer, crushes her to him, one hand still buried in her hair even as he begins to trail the other down the curve of her spine. The tips of her fingers sneak under the metal of his armour, and then she's playing with the leather straps holding his cuirass on, toying with them until they're undone and the chest piece is trapped between the two of them.

She steps back, but their lips don't part, moving so there's only just enough space for her to slide the cuirass off of him and then she's stepping closer again, her arms around him, her body pressed to his and without the metal between them, he can feel all of her, can feel the curves of her body warm against him.

And eventually, Killian doesn't know how long has passed but it feels like he's been kissing her for hours, she pulls back. He holds her loosely, his hands on her waist, hers on his chest, their foreheads pressed together and both of them are breathing heavily, trying to catch their breath after being so completely lost in one another.

"Killian," she sighs, and he swallows, because he knows this is it, this is goodbye. "I'm going to miss you."

He already knows that the absence of her is going to feel like a weight on his chest that he can't push away, has felt that all day just dreading her leaving, but she looks so sad and tearful that he can't bring himself to look miserable too.

He wants his last memory of her to be of her smile. "Not a day will go by that I won't think of you."

Her breath hitches, and another tear falls. Killian raises one hand to gently brush it away, leans in to kiss the tear tracks down her cheek, and when he moves back, Emma's smiling. It's shaky, and it's muted, and small, but it's a smile and it's _beautiful_.

Her smiles have always been beautiful.

"It's the same for me." she finally replies, taking a large step back so they're no longer touching. "I'll never forget you, Killian, or what you've given me. I just wish this wasn't goodbye."

But they both know it is, so when she turns and walks away without another word, Killian doesn't stop her.

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**There you go! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Thank you for all the reviews and favourites and story alerts! Also, if you haven't seen, I've started a new fic, a cursed!Killian AU called Until the Fog Lifts. If you're interested in reading that, it would be great!**

**Thank you to BlackDragon733 for editing this with me!**


	8. Part 8

**Part 8**

It's been a few months since Emma left, and after weeks of feeling aimless, David has finally allowed Killian some time off. It feels strange to be back home, back in his village, but at the same time it's wonderful to see Liam.

Unfortunately, having not replied to Liam since his letter about Emma's Harrowing, Liam seems far too keen to hear what has happened since and Killian does _not _want to talk about it. Not only does he not want to think of Emma, because he still misses her dreadfully, but he doesn't want Liam to know just how badly he has failed at his duty.

Because he doesn't just have a soft spot for Emma, like Liam had suggested in his letter months ago. She's _kissed _him, branded herself into him with her lips, and being without her is _still _painful, even though she's been gone for so long.

He doesn't want to tell Liam that he would pick her over anything.

Except he _does _want to tell Liam, he wants to tell him everything about Emma, tell him how brave and beautiful and strong she is. He wants someone to talk to about _everything_, but he doesn't want to see disapproval on his brother's face when he hears the truth.

And what Killian _really_ wants is for everything to be quiet. He's _always_ thinking, wondering if Emma is happy, worrying that she's been injured in the still-ongoing fight against the darkspawn, what Liam is going to say, what will happen if any of the Templars find out how much he _still _cares.

Sometimes, it is. For a few hours after he's taken his dose of lyrium, his brain quietens, and he feels empty and peaceful and everything seems _easier_.

So when Liam tells him that they need to talk, that he's _worried _about him, it only takes a few choice words to the Reverend Mother, a few lies about how he was not provided lyrium for this trip, and he's given a few more vials.

They aren't supposed to be given any excess lyrium, but Killian can be charming when he puts his mind to it, and he _really _wants to take some before he tells Liam about Emma.

When the sun is going down, and Killian knows Liam will soon return from the Chantry archives to the room they used to share, Killian opens one of the phials and downs the potion inside. He can feel the lyrium singing through his veins, calming him and powering him.

He feels like he can do anything.

"Are you alright?" Liam asks when he enters the small room, sitting next to Killian on the straw mattress. "You've been back a week and you've hardly talked. Never mind the fact that this was a surprise visit."

"I'm fine." He answers, but Liam scoffs and nudges his arm, clearly knowing he's lying. "Alright, I came because I needed a break. It's hard to focus on being a Templar when it's no longer something I'm sure I believe in."

"What? But you've wanted to be a Templar for so long." Liam states, although he looks less disappointed than Killian had expected. "Ever since Milah. You've not even been sworn in for a year and you're doubting?"

"I can't help it."

"Is this because of that mage? What was her name again… Anna?" Liam questions and a knowing look crosses his face when Killian inhales sharply.

"It's Emma." he corrects, and Liam doesn't look disapproving, he just looks sad. "She just… not all mages are dangerous, Liam. It's hard to think I may have to kill any of them, when I know that they are so much more than what the Chantry tells us."

"You also remember that some of them are far worse." Liam says stiffly, and Killian bows his head. "You know what mages are willing to do for power. Do you really believe that the Circle is unnecessary? That it isn't for the good of the world that we keep the mages in there?"

Killian's silent for a minute and then he shakes his head. "I don't know anymore. And if I don't know, how can I pledge my life to _this_?"

Liam frowns, taps his fingers against his knees awkwardly and then sighs. "Look, little brother, I don't know what you're feeling for this mage and I can't tell you not to feel those things, because life doesn't work like that." Killian nods slowly, hanging on his brother's every word. "But have you considered that maybe, you're using Emma as a reason for why you're having second thoughts when really it's just natural that you're panicking after finally committing to something and joining an Order you're going to be part of for the rest of your life?"

"No. I never doubted anything until I met her." Killian responds quickly, because Liam is _wrong_. Committing to the Templars had been easy, especially when he was haunted by memories of Milah. It only became difficult when he found something he wanted even _more_, when he realised that receiving a smile from Emma meant more to him than anything he could do as a Templar, and he could only make her smile when he was breaking the vows he had made. "But Liam, how can I commit to something, to being a Templar, when it stops me from being with her?"

Liam shakes his head. "Oh, Killian, what have gotten yourself into? What are you going to do if you leave the Templars? She's in the Circle so you won't be able to see her. And we've heard what happens to people who stop taking lyrium."

"She's not in the Circle." Killian retorts, ignoring the other valid point. "She's a Grey Warden. If I find her, we can be together."

"So your options are to stay a Templar or to wander the world looking for her, with no lyrium and no way of finding where she is?" Liam states, and when it's said like that, Killian knows the choice he should make, even if it's not what he wants. "Killian, whatever you feel for this woman, clearly the Maker is telling you that it is not meant to be. Surely love isn't meant to be this difficult."

_Is _love what he feels for Emma? Killian doesn't want to know, not when he knows what he has to do, when he's never going to see her again.

Because Liam is correct. Being with her, _choosing _her, is too difficult for it to be right.

"One day, Killian, you're going to save someone. Whether or not that means saving someone from a mage, or protecting a mage from a demon." Liam says, a wise, knowing look in his eyes. "When you do that, it'll be worth it. You'll remember why you chose to be a Templar and you'll be thankful you didn't leave."

Killian smiles and nods and thanks Liam for his advice.

And when Liam's asleep and Killian's lying uncomfortably on his make-shift bed, he downs another vial of lyrium because he can't stop _thinking_.

He's thinking that maybe he's already saved someone, just not in the way he ever expected to, thinking that he needs to stop dwelling on Emma if he wants to do his job.

He thinks that maybe she's damned him with her kiss, because even with the lyrium singing through him and dulling his mind, he sees her smile as clearly as if she'd only left him minutes ago.

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**Hey guys! I hope you enjoy this chapter - I'm hoping to start posting chapters for this on Monday's and Friday's instead of just whenever I feel like it, because I really have a lot of work at the moment. This chapter is pretty short, but still, feedback would be great!**

**Thanks to BlackDragon733 for editing.**

**(Also, I'm considering raising the rating to M because of drug use and _possible_ violence and smut in later chapters, and I figured I'd warn you guys. I told you angst was happening! )**


	9. Part 9

**Sticking this note at the top just so people know it's gone up a rating. Yeah, this fic is M-rated now, guys - because _adult themes_. Anyway, thanks for the reviews/favourites/alerts and thank you to BlackDragon733 for editing this! Feedback would be great!**

* * *

**Part 9**

It's been a year now, and he's been trying. He makes it through most days in a haze, but he's still at the Circle and he's still doing his duty. And now, the Templars have accompanied the mages outside the Circle, gone with them to what is meant to be the Final Battle.

The Grey Wardens intend to fight the Archdemon, but they need other armies to help them deal with the overwhelming number of darkspawn. This means that Killian is sat in a small tent, heavy armour piled on the floor, sword and scabbard abandoned on the floor, waiting to be called into action.

He's trying desperately not to think that if the Grey Wardens are here, Emma might be here, because it's been a year and who knows what has happened to her.

He rummages through his small pack of supplies to find a vial of lyrium, wanting to take some more to _stop_ such thoughts, wanting to take more because he _needs _it.

"Killian?" He hadn't heard anyone come into his tent, but he knows the voice and he turns around to see Emma standing in front of him. He puts the vial down and rubs his eyes, just in case he's hallucinating.

He _could _be hallucinating. Lyrium does that to him. But if he's _not _hallucinating, he can't take the lyrium now because if Emma is really there, he doesn't want his mind to be dulled. He wants to remember everything with perfect clarity.

"Am I interrupting?" Emma asks, gesturing over at the faintly glowing phial. "Do you need to take it before the battle?"

He doesn't want to lie to her, but he doesn't want to tell her that he's _already _taken the regulated dose. She doesn't need to know how far he's sunk, how he spends most of his wages on procuring excess lyrium from the gullible Nova, how he lies and tells the supplier that he's in charge of storing spare lyrium in case of blocked trade routes.

So he ignores the question. "Emma? How are you?"

She frowns slightly but steps closer, rests her hand on his arm and he can feel her touch and she really is there, she is really standing in front of him. "I'm fine. As fine as I can be when I'm about to go to war."

He chuckles bitterly, because the only reason she's in the midst of all of this is because of him. "Other than this war, you've been happy, haven't you?"

Emma looks at him, and then she takes a deep breath. "I don't think I can be here for long," she says, and she hasn't answered. Killian _needs _to know, because he wants her to be happy more than anything. "And I really shouldn't tell you what I'm about to tell you."

"You don't have to tell me if it's something you shouldn't do." he says quickly, because as much as he was willing to risk everything to spend time with her, he doesn't want her to risk everything for him. He's not worth it.

"I _want _to talk you," she says quietly. "Because you're important to me. I don't think you understand _how _important."

He can't breathe, watching as Emma's hand slides down his arm to take his hand in hers, and he had never allowed himself to believe he would see her again. "What is it, Emma?"

"When I left the Circle, I was only a recruit for a few weeks. To become a full Grey Warden, there was a ritual we had to take part in. This ritual, well, you either become a Grey Warden or you die." She swallows and he feels horrified, tightening his grip on her hand. "And when I did the ritual, I thought I _was _dying. I was in so much pain but I was alright with dying because I'd be free from the Circle and from _everything _but then I thought of you and your stories and how you wanted me to have the chance to see those places. I figured that there was still so much _more _that you wanted for me, and that you'd risked so much to give it to me and I couldn't die before I'd seen it. And I _have_, Killian, I've travelled and I've seen the world and it was more beautiful than I could ever have imagined. And I'm glad that I got to see you today, and tell you this, because the Grey Wardens fight demons that no one else can fight and they die doing it. When I go to fight the Archdemon, I don't think I'll be coming back so I wanted you to know all of that."

He inhales because he doesn't know what to say. He's thankful she's been able to do what she wanted but he can't bear the idea that today might be her last day, and the only reason her death might be tomorrow is because he persuaded the Grey Wardens to recruit her.

"I'm sorry," he mutters, and she draws her hand back and gazes at him with a curious look. "I wanted you to be free but all I did was trap you with new obligations and duties. If you die tomorrow, Emma, it's because of me."

"No," she says, shaking her head and sending him the most earnest look he's ever seen. "No, Killian. You tried to give me the world and I've seen more than I had ever imagined I would see. Please don't ever apologise for that."

"I wanted you to live." He croaks, and Emma steps up to him, wraps her arms around his waist and rests her cheek against his chest.

"I _have_." she breathes."And I'd rather die like this, out there, than die of old age trapped in the Circle."

He watches Emma, his hands still hanging loosely at his side even as she embraces him, because he still can't believe she's here, and then she tilts her head up and presses her lips to his. His hands tremble as he cups her face, and he doesn't know if it's because he's _touching _her again or if it's because he hasn't taken his lyrium yet, but he doesn't care because the kisses are slow and tender, if a bit unsure.

And then he feels her fingers sliding under his linen shirt, her hands warm against his bare chest. She's kissing him harder, he's trying to pull her closer, dropping one shaking hand from her cheek to grip her waist.

She pulls her lips away from his, rises on her tiptoes to start brushing kisses along his jaw. "_Please_, Killian." she whimpers, and she's trying to tug his shirt over his head but it's impossible because she refuses to put enough space between them. "If I'm going to die tomorrow, I want _this_. I want _you_."

"Are you sure?" he asks, stepping away from her so that he can look at her and make sure of what she's asking him.

Emma takes advantage of the distance to finally pull his shirt off and throw it over her shoulder. She closes the distance between them again, glides her hands up his arms, over his shoulders and then down his chest and then tilts her head up so their lips are almost brushing. "You've given me everything Killian, and I never had to ask." she murmurs, her lips touching his with each word. "Let me ask now. Give me this."

His breath stutters, but he knows he can't deny her anything, so he crushes his lips down on hers and walks her backwards to his sleeping mat, lowers her gently to the ground until he's lying on top of her and one of her hands is buried in his hair, the other toying with the waistline of his trousers.

He eventually pulls back, runs his hands down the length of her body, Emma breathing heavily below him. He rocks back so he's kneeling, his hands playing with the edge of her robe, and then he's pushing the fabric up, kissing every inch of skin that's revealed to him. When the robe bunches around her waist, she's already whimpering, her hand fisted in his hair, and she sighs his name when he nuzzles the inside of her thigh, releasing his hold on her clothes so that he can spread her legs and then he's teasing and licking and tasting until she's shuddering and crying out.

She tugs at his hair, pulls him up to press her lips desperately to his, releasing his hair once he's kissing her and then shoving his trousers off. He breaks away from her to finally pull her robes over her head, and then they're both gloriously naked and pressed against one another.

She's so _beautiful_.

He shifts so he's _there_, teasing her entrance, just brushing against her, and then Emma raises her head to kiss him, threads her fingers through his hair, and he's sliding into her. She's warm and wet around him and he groans into her mouth, and they're making love - this _has _to be making love. They meet each other for each slow, dragging thrust, Emma's breath catching each time he almost withdraws. He trails kisses from her mouth to her breast, Emma's back arching so she's pressing closer. When she wraps her legs around his waist, pulls him in just a bit deeper, he knows he's close. She keens, and Killian moves his hand to rub and tease until she's shuddering again and coming apart _around _him. He falls apart too, filling her, and for a few minutes after, she holds him close, keeps him inside her, her arms trembling, their bodies slick with sweat.

He kisses her again, his tongue curling around hers, and it's deep and needy but then Emma is gently pushing him off of her. She whispers apologies, presses a few tearful kisses to his shoulder, and he can feel himself start to shake, because she's leaving again, because it's been too long since he last took lyrium, because she came to him and let him _love _her and he knows nothing will let him forget what's just happened.

He doesn't want to forget.

When she's dressed, she leans down and slides her lips across his for one last kiss and he doesn't reach up to hold her to him, because he knows she's leaving.

She walks out of his tent without another word.

Killian dresses slowly, his mind racing, heart still pounding furiously, and he feels too much. Emma's leaving, walking off to what is most likely going to be her last battle, and he'll never know if she's alive or not.

He exhales shakily, reaches out for the vial of lyrium he abandoned when Emma arrived. He struggles to open the seal, his hand shaking almost uncontrollably, but eventually he gets the bottle open and he downs the potion, feels the lyrium singing through him and quieting everything, the soothing haze settling over his mind.

This time, though, lyrium doesn't help him forget anything.


	10. Part 10

**Part 10**

The battle Killian had attended _did _turn out to be the Final Battle, the Archdemon vanquished in what was apparently a spectacular assault from the Grey Wardens. The Blight had ended and the world had fallen into a Thaw, the Darkspawn still above ground, still spreading disease and decay, but steadily retreating to their lairs underground.

Killian had returned to the Circle with the Templars and the Mages, and although he had spent a few days hoping, in vain, that Emma would return to the Circle now the Grey Wardens were no longer necessary, he has long since resigned himself to the fact that not only would he never see her again, but he would never know whether or not she had survived.

The not knowing is painful. It's been months - nearly a year since she came to him before the battle and let him love her - and he can't concentrate. Not when the Circle is just a tower of memories, when everything he sees makes him think of her, makes him remember how she walked out of his tent and left him alone.

He dreams of her. He relives the last few hours he spent with her over and over, pictures what would have happened if she stayed, if she'd been with him instead of fighting. Sometimes he imagines that their kisses, before she left the Circle, weren't the end but a beginning of something.

But the worst is when he sees her out the corner of his eyes, as if she's haunting him. She stands just out of reach, turns the corner and slips out of sight when he nears her, vanishes when he blinks.

When he takes lyrium, she's _clearer_, _closer_, but he doesn't try to touch her anymore, not when he knows he'll reach out and try to hold her and she won't really be there.

Sometimes he panics that she truly _is _haunting him, that she died in the Final Battle, but he doesn't know the truth, not really, and he clings to the fact that it's the lyrium making him see her, because he doesn't think he can bear it if she's gone.

He hates the Circle, hates watching the apprentice mages attend their Harrowings, seeing how some of them pass and others mutate into monsters.

He wants to leave.

He doesn't know what he'll do if he does.

He takes more lyrium, spends all his earnings on it, because it makes everything easier. He sees Emma more, but the lyrium helps with the loneliness when he remembers she's not real.

One day, he sneaks down into the storage rooms under the tower. He's not sure what he's looking for, perhaps just silence, and for a few minutes he simply sits in the dark, pretends his life is different - isn't just lyrium and delusions and loneliness.

He decides to explore, wanders through rooms full of glowing alchemy ingredients, old ripped books and rolls of parchments, broken staffs and spare sets of armour. And then, in the furthest room, he finds the phylacteries - vials of blood labelled with familiar names. A few hang from chains, the phylacteries of those who had once escaped, and Killian is drawn to them.

He runs his fingers along the names inked onto the small strips of parchment, halting when he traces the word Emma. It's hers, an hourglass-shaped vial attached to a thin gold chain, and he's not thinking when he reaches out to take it. The chain dangles from one hand and he grips the vial in the other.

It's warm and pulsing slightly, as though he can feel Emma's heartbeat, and he feels happier than he's felt in months because she's alive and he knows it for certain. He may not know where she is, but he knows she's out there.

He feels like he's finally seeing clearly for the first time since he last saw Emma, because with the phylactery held steady in his hand, he knows what he wants.

He wants to be at Emma's side.

He slips the chain around his neck, the vial resting against his heart and beating in time with it. He then sneaks out of the cellar and returns to his room where he collapses onto his bed.

He became a Templar to find Rumplestiltskin. If he does that, then he'll have done everything he meant to do as a Templar and he can stop. He won't need the power of the lyrium, not if Rumplestiltskin's gone. If he's not a Templar, he can be with Emma.

And now he has her phylactery, he can find her.

He doesn't give himself time to start doubting. Instead, he tucks Emma's phylactery under his armour, under his linen shirt, so that it's against his skin, and goes to find David.

The Knight Commander is in his office, packing for his next trip back to see his family, and Killian hates to interrupt but he needs to tell him now. He needs David to know what he wants, because Killian is worried he'll doubt his own choice and try to remain at the Circle. Right now, he feels strong enough to try and get out.

The man's office is rather empty - everything has been packed except for a small painting of him, his wife and his son.

David stops folding things when he sees Killian, and Killian doesn't know how to start, doesn't know what to say. "Looking forward to seeing your family?"

David smiles widely and nods. "I am. I'm always excited to see how much Neal has grown, even though I wish I didn't have to miss so much." he answers, gesturing at the chubby toddler in the painting. "But the Circle is no place for a child."

There are plenty of children in the Circle, but all of them are mages, so Killian doesn't correct him. "You don't regret choosing this life, do you?" he questions carefully, wondering if he can use this to edge David towards the conversation he actually wants to have.

David shakes his head. "I do wish I could spend more time with my family, but this is the life I chose and it's a life I believe in." He frowns and looks up at Killian, and he can see concern on David's face. "Why, Killian? Is everything alright?"

Killian doesn't want to lie, so he shakes his head. David looks unsurprised and gestures for him to take a seat at his desk. With David sat on the other side, Killian feels as though he's back at the Chantry, a young boy again, but David's smile is warm and comforting and Killian thinks that maybe he'll understand.

"I want to be reassigned." he says simply, and David just nods. "I want to go back home. To serve at the Chantry in my village."

"May I ask why?" David asks kindly.

"I can't be here anymore." Killian says honestly, and the same understanding smile from years ago, when David warned him about Emma, spreads across the Knight-Commander's face. "I need to leave."

"I'll write a letter and soon you'll be back there." David says, and Killian's relieved he's not asking further questions. "Is there anything else? You haven't been yourself lately. Not since… well, not since the Blight ended. Is your brother alright?"

"Liam's fine. Thank you for asking." Killian says quietly, and there's something about David that is so _paternal_, even though he must only be a decade or so older, that Killian wants to tell him more. "However, there is one more favour I'd like to ask of you. When I was younger, there was a mage in my town, a blood mage. I became a Templar to make sure people like him couldn't hurt anyone. But he's still out there, and I think I'd like to make sure that changes."

David's eyes narrow slightly, and then he nods. "I can help. I can write letters to other Knight-Commanders and see if they know anything. I will, of course, need to know this man's name."

"It's Rumplestiltskin." Killian says, feeling ridiculously grateful towards the Knight-Commander, because finding Rumplestiltskin is all he needs to do before he can _stop _all of this and find Emma. "His name is Rumplestiltskin."

"Odd name." David remarks, but he writes it down on a piece of parchment anyway. "Is there anything else?"

David looks like he _knows _there's more on Killian's mind, but Killian doesn't want to say it. Not when David is an honourable man, because Killian doubts he'll truly understand, no matter how hard he tries. Not when David has a family, a love of his own, and he still picks his duty over them.

And Killian knows he's shaking, can see the now familiar tremors of his hand, and he's sure David knows why, because so many Templars become like Killian, addicted to the drug that gives them the power to resist magic, to quell the powers of mages, but David doesn't say anything.

"Nothing else."

David sighs and then stands from his desk, crossing the room to stand by the door. Killian moves to leave, but David stops him with a hand on his shoulder. "Be careful." he says quietly, and Killian looks up at him. "Honestly, I think you should stay here. With the Circle."

"Why?"

"I think you know why this place is best for you." David says carefully, and Killian swallows. "But if this is truly what you want, just nod. I'll do it. I'll send the letters and find Rumplestiltskin and I'll transfer you back home. But I would prefer it if you stayed."

"I have to go." Killian whispers, his voice hoarse. "Please, David. I can't _do_ this anymore."

"Alright." David sighs, releasing Killian so he can leave the office. "But make sure to write. I'll worry if I don't hear from you." Killian walks away, and just before he turns the corner, he hears David calling after him. "I hope you find what you're looking for."

Killian hopes he does too.

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**Here you go. Just a warning that things are going to keep getting angstier for a couple more chapters! I hope you enjoyed this chapter though - thank you for the reviews/favourites/alerts! Feedback is always appreciated!**

**And thank you to BlackDragon733 for editing this with me!**


	11. Part 11

**Putting the AN here because I want to warn you that the next couple of chapters really aren't happy and I'm sorry. Then again, you know by now that this story is full of angst. Anyway, I know I said I'd update on Monday's and Friday's, but I've got enough of this written so I'm now adding Wednesday's to the schedule too! (Also, I imagine you'll not want to wait too long for Part 12 once you finish this...) Thank you for the reviews/favourites/story alerts and thank you to BlackDragon733 for editing this with me. **

* * *

**Part 11**

He's been back home for a while. He feels _stagnant_. He's always waiting for a letter from David, spends every morning in the archives with Liam and trains with the Chantry templars in the afternoons. He walks through the village when darkness falls, visits Milah's grave and wanders past the deserted old cottage that she once lived in.

And when he's alone - when Liam isn't hovering around and making sure he's alright or when the other Templars have walked off to talk - he finds somewhere quiet and empty and he sits on the floor and he takes the lyrium and waits for the shaking to stop.

Most days, he doesn't really speak to anyone, but there are times when all he wants to do is talk. And no matter what Liam's doing, he joins Killian in the Chantry cloister, sits with him under the large oak tree, the way they did when they were children, and he listens.

Liam tells him he needs to move on from finding Rumplestiltskin, from _Emma_, but Killian can't do that. If he lets Rumplestiltskin go free, stops hunting him, he won't have anything left.

Because Emma's lost to him for now, but he has to cling on to the fact that one day he'll be free from the Templars and he'll be able to find her.

Liam tells him one night, in the room they now share, that he wants Killian to get better. Killian asks him what he means, and Liam shrugs.

"Because I know you're not telling me everything." Liam says quietly. "And I don't know what's happened, but you're not happy and I don't like that. You've lost weight and you're always shaking and… look, Killian, I just want you to be happy."

"I want to be happy too." Killian whispers but he doesn't say anything more because he can't, because now Liam's said it out loud - that he's not _right _\- he knows just how unhappy he is.

Eventually, he gets a letter from David and considering that they talked rarely, and he was his superior, the letter is written as though they were friends. He asks how Killian is, asks if he's enjoying his time with his brother. David writes about his family, how Mary-Margaret is expecting again, how Neal is learning to read and write, and Killian wishes he could find the happiness that exudes from every single word David writes.

But he doesn't pay attention to that, not when there's a postscript saying that Rumplestiltskin has been seen, travelling west.

West towards Killian's village.

He sends only a few words back in reply - a thank you and a hastily written congratulations - and then he tells Liam what's happening, that he's certain Rumplestiltskin is coming back. That he'll be in the village soon.

Liam doesn't understand why Killian's so certain - why would the mage return - but Killian _has _to be right. Rumplestiltskin _has _to be coming, because Killian needs everything to come to an end.

And after a few weeks of being constantly alert, of being as aware as he can be when he's not sleeping, when he's constantly catching glimpses of the man out of the corner of his eye and turning to see nothing, he finally sees him clearly.

He tries to run after him but Liam holds him back.

"Killian, he's not there." Liam hisses, and Killian doesn't listen, _can't _listen. He tugs his arm free and runs, ignoring his brother's yells.

This time, when he reaches Milah's old home, he goes inside. The door creaks when he opens it, and the cottage smells musty and dank and _rotten_ but he can _feel _magic and he knows he was right, he knows that Rumplestiltskin is there.

He pushes another door open, walks into the only other room of the cottage and stops when he sees Rumplestiltskin, hunched over and gathering what looks like a collection of dusty glass vials into a small bag, things he must have left when he fled last time.

He takes a step closer, one hand gripping the pommel of his sword tightly, but he doesn't make it further than one stride because Rumplestiltskin turns and flutters his hand, murmurs what sounds like nonsense. Killian feels his muscles seize up and lock in place, mid-step, one hand on his sword, the other outstretched, and he can't do _anything_.

Rumplestiltskin looks him up and down and then giggles, a cruel, malicious sound that terrifies Killian. "I remember you." The mage says, a frightening smirk spreading across his face. "The little boy from the Chantry. The one who cried 'apostate'." He darts closer, examining Killian. "I couldn't forget how Milah smuggled away with food and clothes, giving you things she should have given to _our _son."

"Baelfire already had everything." Killian forces out, only just able to speak through his clenched jaw. "I never asked for anything, she just brought me what she noticed I needed."

Rumplestiltskin shakes his head. "You ruined everything. She _cared _for you." he snarls. "It's why she wouldn't leave this town, why I needed to _make _her listen to me."

"Don't pretend it's my fault." Killian says, trying to keep his voice steady. "You wanted power. You killed someone to have it and when it still wasn't enough, when Baelfire realised what you'd done, you killed _her _so that you could keep your son. And where is he now?"

"He's safe." Rumplestiltskin says smugly, taking another quick step closer, another giggle escaping him when he looks at Killian's hand, locked on his sword. "You know, I was expecting you. I've seen you over the past few weeks, seen you noticing me. You caught my eye and you just looked away. Some people might say it's sad, how you can't even trust your own mind anymore. I find it… _exhilarating_."

Another step closer and Killian wants to move away, but he can't, and with the dangerous excitement in the mages' eye, he worries that this is it.

He wishes he could have seen Emma again.

"Do you think the Templars will listen to you _now_?" Rumplestiltskin jeers. "Will they search for me? Because I doubt it. Will they search for _you_? I doubt that too." He giggles, and then pulls a thin, razor-sharp knife from his belt and dangles it tauntingly from his fingers. "Shall I tell you what I find _delightful_? Templars can take as much lyrium as they like, but nothing is more powerful than life, and I can use that. No matter how much lyrium you've taken over the past few weeks, months, you'll never be strong enough to stop me. _Especially _once I've used _you_ for power."

"Go ahead." Killian cries, because he can't escape and he can see in the villain's eyes exactly what he wants. "Just do it."

Rumplestiltskin hums, bounces from side to side and then shakes his head with a callous cackle. "I don't think I want to. I think you became a Templar just to find me and I think I want everyone to know how badly you _failed_. I want them to look at you, the brain-addled, lyrium-addicted _fool _and I want them to know that I won."

And for a brief second, Killian feels _relief_, because as long as he lives, he can see Emma and Liam again.

But then Rumplestiltskin grips his knife tighter and Killian knows that even if he survives, he's not going to escape this encounter unharmed.

It isn't enough for Rumplestiltskin to leave Killian tormented over his failure. He wants to make it worse.

"I don't need you dead to have more power." Rumplestiltskin lectures, and Killian closes his eyes and just waits for whatever's going to happen.

There's a sudden, searing pain at his wrist and then the world falls away.


	12. Part 12

**Part 12**

When he wakes, he feels hot and feverish. His left hand is aching, and someone is holding his right hand, pressing their forehead against it. It takes effort to open his eyes, but he does, and he feels confused when he sees it's Liam, eyes closed and mumbling a prayer, and Killian doesn't understand why his brother looks so upset.

"Liam?" He croaks, and he doesn't know why his mouth is dry. "What's wrong?"

His brother raises his head and gapes at him for a second, and then he reaches out and hugs him. "Thank the Maker you're awake."

Killian still isn't thinking clearly - he remembers Rumplestiltskin, but only has vague memories of their encounter. He can't understand how he ended up back in the Chantry, with Liam praying at his bedside.

He takes a few deep breaths, willing the ache in his hand to go away and the shaking to stop, tries to breathe in time with the slow beats of Emma's phylactery except he can't feel it all, can't feel it's warmth against his chest.

He reaches for it, wanting to check it's there.

"Killian, don't." Liam says hurriedly, but it's too late because Killian is looking down and he has no phylactery.

And no hand.

And he doesn't understand because he can _feel _it, but it's not there.

For a second, he stares at the bandaged stump, at where his _hand _should be and then he can't breath, he can't think of anything except that his hand is _gone_. He feels Liam's hold on his other hand tighten, but it doesn't help. He sits up, holds the maimed arm to his stomach and he cries.

He can't stop. He can barely speak, his throat too tight, but he's mumbling apologies to someone, anyone, Killian doesn't know who, but this _has _to be his fault.

But then Liam's holding him again, Killian's head pressed to his chest, and he's calming down. He's still short of breath, still shaking and crying but he can _think_, and he knows he's holding onto Liam as though he was a little boy again, but he can't let go.

"No, Killian. _I'm _sorry." Liam says, and it takes a moment for Killian to understand, because whatever he was saying before, he can't remember. "I should have been there for you. I should have _believed_ you and gone with you to look for Rumplestiltskin. I should have talked to you more, because I knew you were hurting and I didn't do anything to help."

"No." Killian protests, but his voice is weak and thin and barely audible. "I did this to myself. I just…"

Liam inhales deeply. "How much lyrium do you take, Killian?" he asks cautiously, as if he doesn't know if he should be asking the question.

Killian doesn't want to answer, because even now, he doesn't want to disappoint his brother, doesn't want him to know just how far he's fallen.

And he's shaking harder, losing focus because the one thing he would have used to keep his grip on _reality_ is gone and he doesn't know where it is. His arm aches and throbs, he's shivering, sweating, and he's lost the one thing that would have let him find Emma.

He's steadily losing everything and he doesn't know what to do.

He can't lose Liam too.

"I can't." He mutters, struggling to say each word through the lump in his throat. "Liam, _please_. Don't make me tell you."

Liam swallows and then nods, hugs him tighter for only a second, and then he releases him. Killian falls back to the mattress, trying to not to dwell on the fact that his arm feels too light and that he feels as though he can move his fingers, even though he knows now that they're not there.

"I need to change your bandages." Liam says, reaching out to gently lay a hand on Killian's forearm. "Don't look, alright?"

Killian turns his head, rests his cheek against the pillow and closes his eyes to stop himself from crying again. Liam's moving around to his other side, to his injury, and Killian wishes he could pretend nothing was wrong, but when Liam starts to unwind the bandage, he feels sharp pains shooting up his arms and he whimpers.

"Is he awake yet?" Killian opens his eyes when he hears David's voice and tilts his head slightly to see that the Knight-Commander is standing in the doorway, looking just as tired as Liam.

"I'm awake."

David raises an eyebrow and then crosses the room to take the seat Liam abandoned. "We got him." David says quickly, and Killian is trying really hard to focus on his words because there's so much he _doesn't _want to think about, but his mind is blurry and he feels so tired. "Rumplestiltskin's dead. I'd been following him since you mentioned him to me and when we arrived here, Liam told us you'd gone after him. It's lucky we found you when we did, because you were losing a lot of blood. But Rumplestiltskin was still there. I don't know what he was attempting to do, but he was far too dangerous to leave in custody. I killed him myself. He's gone, Killian."

It can't be true. The thought of being so close and yet _failing_, of having David kill the one man Killian had sworn to bring justice to himself, is too much. He's shaking uncontrollably and then he's sobbing again, loud, gasping sobs that physically hurt him.

And then he feels David press something into his hand, a warm, beating vial and he feels everything slow down, feels as if he can breathe for the first time since he woke up, and he opens his fist to see Emma's phylactery.

He can find her.

And if Rumplestiltskin's truly dead, then he can leave the Templars and find her as soon as he's well enough.

"You have two choices, Killian." David says, and Killian's not really listening. "You can take the Phylactery back to the Circle. We'll waive your punishment for stealing it. You'll still be a Templar, but you'll no longer receive any of the serious duties that require-"

"Two hands?" Killian interrupt harshly.

David swallows and then nods. "Well, yes. But you'll be provided with lyrium. Your other choice is to go after her."

"What would you do?" he asks quietly, curling his fingers around Emma's phylactery. "What would you choose?"

"I think no matter what you pick, it's going to be hard." David says, and then he looks down and fidgets with his wedding ring. "But I think finding Emma will make you happier than if you remain a Templar."

"But I vowed-"

"I know." David doesn't let him protest, just stares at him with a look of total understanding. "If I was in the position that you are in, with no hope of rising any further in rank, I'd pick Mary-Margaret. If I ever had to choose, I'd pick her. I'm just lucky that I don't have to. If you love Emma, find her."

And then the realisation hits him, and Killian doesn't know how he didn't realise before.

He loves her.

He's _in love _with her and while he'd never thought to define it, now David is saying it as if it's obvious and it _is_.

His love is like lightning, the thunder of their first meeting the only warning that he would feel this for her, so deep and sudden and striking, and he loves her more than he could have ever believed possible.

He's always loved her.

And he knows what he wants to do and it's not a choice at all because he was never going to return to the Circle.

He doesn't even say anything, he simply smiles shakily at David, who nods at him and reaches out to place a hand on his shoulder. "Good luck." he says earnestly, and then he reaches out and ruffles Killian's hair. "Keep writing, alright?"

Killian watches David leave, and then Liam is back in the empty seat and his arm is wrapped up again. Liam's eyes are red, he looks exhausted and distraught and Killian is sorry he ever made his brother feel like this.

"It's going to be hard, little brother." Liam mutters, carefully prying the phylactery out of Killian's hold and then draping the chain around his younger brother's neck. "But I believe you can find her."

"You're not…" Killian swallows and looks away, Emma's phylactery a comforting rhythm against his chest. "You're not disappointed? Finding Emma, _loving _Emma, goes against everything I vowed. Everything I promised to the Maker."

"I swore my life to the Maker, Killian. I never expected you to do the same." Liam states, and Killian feels like he's going to cry again. "I was happy when you did, certainly, but what I want most is for you to do whatever it is that makes _you _happy. And I should have said this earlier, because I don't like the thought that I was ever one of the reasons that you weren't. I said the wrong thing, all those years ago, when I told you that the best choice for you was to remain at the Circle. I should have made it clear that it was your choice and it was always your choice and that I will stand by you no matter how you choose to live your life."

"Liam…" Killian mumbles, turning his head away from his brother because his words mean too much. Except when he shifts, he sees his arm ending suddenly, wrapped in new white bandages, sees how he's still shaking, and he feels his chest tightening again and sees the world start to blur.

"Once you leave the Order, you leave lyrium." Liam says carefully, and Killian raises his hand - his _only _hand - to hold onto the vial again, to ground himself. "You'll need to make it through that before you can have the life you want. But I believe that you can do it, brother. And if you can't, then I will be here for you. I will _always _be here for you."

"I can do it." Killian says determinedly. "I'll do it once I've found her."

And he _will_ find her. He has to.

Because he loves her with every single part of his being, but he doesn't _know _her yet. He knows she wants freedom, he knows her body and the way she reacts to his kisses, his touches, _him_, but he doesn't know _her_. Not fully. Not the way he wants to.

And they may have only had a handful of conversations and a few kisses and one night, and he may have only a few remaining vials of lyrium and one hand, but he'll travel the world to see her one more time.

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**I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks for the favourites/story alerts/reviews and** **thank you to BlackDragon733 for editing this with me!**


	13. Part 13

**Part 13**

It's months until Killian is stable enough to venture out in search of Emma. Although he had recovered well enough from the loss of his hand within weeks, his lyrium had run out well before that, and he'd suffered through months of hallucinations and fevers and madness.

The nightmares will never go away, he knows that, and sometimes he still begins to shake and sweat, but he thinks he can _handle _it now. He's not going mad anymore, doesn't feel his sanity slipping away from him.

He can find her now.

Liam seems reluctant to let him leave, but his brother knows he can't stop him, and so instead he gives Killian a map and tells him he's contacted the Grey Wardens. Liam doesn't know where Emma is, but he knows there's a Grey Warden fortress two months away.

If Emma's not there, people might know where she is.

But Killian hopes that his search doesn't take too long. They've been separated for far too long, and he can't bear the thought that the Maker is cruel enough to put him through any more suffering.

And so he walks, retiring in inns when he can, and with each step closer he thinks he can feel the phylactery beating faster, louder, and when he looks at it, it's glowing faintly, and he feels, with complete certainty, that Emma's going to be at the fortress.

That in only days, he'll be with her.

When he's outside the fortress, a dull, grey monstrosity, he hesitates. The phylactery is a bright red, gleaming in his hand, and she has to be just inside, but he's nervous.

It's been years since he saw her. He's thinner and paler and _ill_, he has one hand, and as much as he loves her, there's no guarantee she'll feel the same and he hates it, but he doesn't know what he'll do if she doesn't want him too.

He doesn't have anything else.

He won't be able to make the journey back to Liam. He knows that.

Killian knocks on the door and waits a few moments, hides his stump in his coat pocket, and then an older man opens the door.

"Hello?" The man asks, and he's wearing the armour of the Grey Wardens. "What's wrong? Do you need to see a Healer?"

Killian wonders if he should care that his appearance is enough to make people think he's seriously ill, but he can't because now the door is open, he's _so _close. "Um, I'm here to see Emma? She's a mage. I don't know if she's here, but I knew her before and I-"

"I know Emma." The man says, and he steps aside, but Killian can feel him staring even when he's standing in the vast hall. There are many Grey Wardens milling around, and Killian's looking at all of them, hoping to see her.

And then he catches a glimpse of gold and it's her and she's looking at him, eyes wide, lips parted, and all he can do is smile weakly.

She excuses herself from the crowd of people surrounding her and walks over to him, stopping just in front of him and he can't breathe because he's found her. "Emma."

"Killian?" she says, tilting her head and looking confused. "What are you doing here?"

"I-" She doesn't give him a chance to say anymore, his voice faltering when she slips her hand into his and starts to lead him out of the hall, takes him into a small library. He remembers when he spoke to her in the library, showed her the world through the atlas she handed him, and for a moment he feels completely overwhelmed.

He never thought about what he would do when he found her.

"This is better." she states, stepping close to him and smoothing her fingers across his cheek, her other hand resting on his shoulder. "Now, please, tell me why you're here?"

He swallows, and then shrugs, raising his hand to grip the phylactery and pull her attention towards it. "I… Well, I wanted you to have this." he says, and he's making it up as he goes along because he's not ready to tell her that he's there because he _needs _her. "As long as this exists, you're not truly free. Anyone can find you. I thought you would want to destroy it."

Her gaze flicks between the vial in his hand and him, and then she glides her hand down from his shoulder and gently uncurls his fingers from around the small bottle and lifts the chain over his head, and he shudders at the absence of it's rhythm against his heart. She dangles it from her fingers, but she's only looking at him.

"That's the reason you came all of the way here?" she breathes.

"Is that not reason enough?" He asks quietly.

Emma beams at him, and he had remembered her smile was beautiful, but his memory is nothing compared to the reality of it. She's _devastating_, and he freezes when she inches closer, so close that their chests are touching with each breath. "I want to be your reason."

He grins at her, and smiling feels unfamiliar - it's been so long since he's felt happy enough to smile - but her words are _everything_.

Killian kisses her, cupping her cheek in his hand and hoping to demonstrate how much she means to him in his kiss. Emma laughs, sounds overjoyed, and then she throws her arms around his neck, throws herself into his kiss, and he hears the phylactery clatter against the ground, but he doesn't care.

He can't stand up - he's too _weak _to stay standing - and he sinks to the ground so he's sitting against the wall, Emma still kissing him, kneeling between his legs and trying to pull him closer, and he lets her, curls his tongue around hers and devours her because he's been waiting for so long.

He's been _alone _for so long.

He feels Emma fidgeting so he pulls away, watches as she adjusts her position so she's straddling him, her knees either side of his hips. He meets her gaze and she smiles coyly and then rocks her hips against his.

He shudders, buries his head against her neck and tries to breath, but he _can't_, he's shivering and he's feeling _everything, _and she's there, and she still wants him and _it can't be real_.

He feels her kiss the top of his head, and then she glides her hands down his arms, take his hand in hers, grips his maimed arm lightly with the other. He pulls back to look at her, trying to find the words to tell her everything, even though it's still so painful, but Emma shakes her head and just raises his arm to her lips, presses a light, warm kiss to the base of the bandage.

Killian has to kiss her again, so he slides his lips over hers, feels _warmth _spread through him when she keeps hold of his arm, rests it against her waist as though he's holding her in place and then rocks into him again, her movement deliberate. He feels his breath catch and he presses his lips harder against hers, Emma's hand tangling itself in his hair once she's released his arm.

Emma breaks the kiss first, starting to trail kisses along his jaw and down his neck, and Killian's still for a few moments, breathing heavily and trying to process everything, because he's only just found her and she's already surrounding him, _burning _him.

She takes their joined hands, slides them under the skirt of her robes, letting go only when she's brought his hand between her legs, and then he's touching her, curling his fingers _just right_ so that she moans and presses closer.

And when she's shaking and breathless, he draws his hand back, turns his head so he's capturing her lips again. Emma struggles with the laces on his trousers, but soon he's free and she's taken hold of him, aligning him and sinking down upon him, and he grunts into their kiss, because if he thought Emma was burning him before, it's nothing compared to what he feels now.

She keeps moving and Killian starts to press light kisses down her neck, and they're not even really _undressed_, but she's bringing him closer and closer to falling apart. Her breath is coming in short gasps, and then she's taking his hand again, bringing it back to where they're joined, and he teases her with light, fluttering touches until she's coming above him, her head thrown back, his mouth sucking lightly on her neck.

He follows her soon after, collapsing against her and feeling spent and exhausted and _happy_, his head resting on her slightly damp shoulder. He's too tired to stop himself from shaking, a reminder of his lyrium addiction that returns whenever he's tired, that will never go away.

They're still joined, something he becomes acutely aware of when Emma shifts slightly, adjusting so that she can take his face in her hands and raise his head to meet her gaze. Her sea-green eyes are wide, glistening, and she's smiling in a way he's never seen before, but it's impossibly more beautiful than any she's shared with him before.

"I'm glad you found me," she murmurs, lowering her forehead to his. "Because I love you."

And suddenly everything is too much, because she _loves _him, she doesn't care that he's got one hand and he's shivering, and he sobs, pulling his head back and looking away from her, trying to regain control of himself because he's _so _happy, he hasn't felt like this for years and he doesn't know how to deal with it.

And he needs to talk to her, tell her everything he's been through, to hear what she's been doing, but the familiar nagging fear that he's too much of a disappointment rises up in him and he can't say a thing, can't even tell her that he loves her too.

Emma reaches for him, pressing warm kisses to his cheeks, his jaw, interspersing the kisses with soothing words, but he can't stop crying. And then she finally rises off of him, her own hands shaking as she reties the laces of his trousers, and then she stands.

He reaches for her because she can't leave him again, not _now_, but she simply takes a few steps to where the phylactery fell to the ground and bends to pick it up, cradling it gently in her hands.

"Emma?" he asks quietly, watching her return to him and sit back down between his legs, one of her hands resting on his chest, against his heart. "What are you doing?"

She drapes the chain around his neck, the vial dropping to rest against his chest, beating in time with his heart. "I don't want to destroy it." she whispers, leaning forward to brush her lips against hers. "I want you to have it. So that you can always find me."

"I don't want to have to find you again." Killian mutters, raising his hand to take hold of the phylactery, and exhaling shakily when Emma's hand wraps around his. "I can't do it again."

"I hope you never have to." she whispers, leaning close so her lips touch his each time she speaks. "But just in case."

And then he wraps his arms around her, and she stays.

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**Here you go! Thank you so much for the favourites/alerts/reviews. I hope you enjoyed this chapter - I'd love to hear what you thought! Thank you to BlackDragon733 for editing this with me.**


	14. Part 14

**Part 14**

Killian can't think of anything other than Emma.

He'd held her for what felt like hours, his arms tight around her waist, his head on her shoulder, and then she'd stood up and taken his hand and led him to her small bedroom. She'd undressed him first, and then they lay down together, her back against his chest, his arms around her once more, and she whispered 'I love you' and he slept.

He sleeps better than he has in days, but he still wakes within hours, shaking and sweating. And for a second, he stays still because he can't guarantee that Emma's truly beside him, not when he knows how prone he is to delusions.

Then her hand links with his and he exhales sharply, shakily, because she's _real_. Everything wasn't a cruel dream, she was there and she loved him and they were _together_.

He had wanted this for so long that it _couldn't _be real.

And then she moves his hand to her breast, and it feels more real than anything. He nudges her hair away from her neck with his nose, presses hot kisses down the column of her neck as she presses herself back against him, teasing him until he's lifting her leg and sliding into her. They both still, and he sighs, enjoying being as _close _to her as it's possible to be. Then Emma mewls slightly, turns her head awkwardly so that she can kiss him, and he moves, rocks into her, moving faster until she's gasping and whimpering.

Afterwards, Emma turns in his arms and gently pushes him to lie on his back, brushing her lips over his before she settles against him, her chin on his chest and her eyes wide and beautiful and locked on him. "Are you alright?"

Killian shrugs, preferring to relax into her explorations, her hand mapping out every inch of his body, because he would rather have this and wish this was enough to make him _better_ instead of dampening their spirits with talks of the depths he has fallen to.

When he doesn't speak, her hand moves to his face, her thumb brushing the dark circles under his eyes, and she stares at him, searches his face until her lips turn down and she sighs, sliding her lips over his for a lazy kiss that takes his breath away. "_Will_ you be alright?" she asks, and then her other hand is tracing the prominent lines of his ribs. "You look-"

"I know." he murmurs weakly. Because he's well aware what weeks of fever, years of addiction, have done to him, and he knows he's nothing like the bright-eyed new recruit he had been when they met. And he closes his eyes tightly, because he doesn't want to look at her when he admits what he has only just come to realise. "I don't know if I'll ever be alright, Emma."

She nods and then moves off of him, and he reaches out for her because he can't have her leave him yet. She takes hold of his outstretched hand, tangles their fingers together again and then tugs him towards her. He turns so he's pressed against her side, and she guides his head so it's cushioned against her chest, her fingers carding through his hair. "Sleep." she whispers, and his eyes fall closed. "You found me. I'm here. And I'll be here no matter what happens."

He sleeps. And he dreams. Now that he's found Emma, the nightmares are worse. Some are familiar, changed to feature her, ones with her screaming and wailing and transforming into an abomination, ones where he's plunging a sword through her chest and killing her. And others are new, and it's these that are more painful. Nightmares where he wakes to find her gone, to find the bed empty and the phylactery crushed. Visions of her spitting horrible words, that he's too damaged and destroyed and broken for her to love, that he's ruined himself for everyone, that he's too much of a disappointment for anyone to care.

In one particularly cruel dream, he loses her to Liam, feels her drop his hand and sees her take his brother's instead, kissing _him _the way she had once kissed Killian, and all he feels is an empty acceptance because Liam has always been the better man and he can't even blame her for choosing him instead.

The visions are fleeting, quick hallucinations that he sees one after the other, a parade of pain that he can't escape from - can't wake up from.

And then he dreams of Emma, but her lips are curled in the same malicious smirk that Rumplestiltskin had given him, and her eyes are dark and vacant, and it's _her _who cuts his hand off, but in his dream he doesn't pass out. She's there, standing over him and cackling as he clutches at the bleeding stump, falls to his knees and sobs, and Emma just watches.

He wakes to an aching left hand, a throbbing headache and a cold sweat. They've moved during sleep, Emma curled against him instead of holding him, and he tries to take comfort in her proximity but he can't.

Because he loves her. She's his _everything_. She's all he has now that Liam is so far away, but whatever they have together still feels fragile and breakable.

She can't soothe him when he's so intensely aware of how much pain he'll feel if he loses her.

And with the nightmares still vivid in his mind, he can't see how he _won't_ lose her.

He doesn't know how much more anguish he can survive.

Killian is too hot, hears his pulse loud and angry in his head, and feels like he's suffocating, so he gently pushes Emma off of him and climbs out the bed. When he's dressed in his thin linen shirt and trousers, he leaves the room and once he's in the hallway, he sinks to the ground and leans his shoulder against the wall, pressing his forehead against the cool stone.

He takes his hand and massages the sensitive skin of his arm gently, trying to will away the tingling and the horrible feeling that his fingers are moving even though he can see that he doesn't have any.

He wishes he was stronger. He loved Emma for her strength first, and then for every part of her, and he doesn't understand how she can look at him and love him when he's so weak.

He's terrified that she'll wake up and realise that she loves the man he used to be, before he lost himself to lyrium, and that she'll see that there's no way that man is coming back. That he can't, not when he's haunted by years of loneliness and despair and _emptiness_. Not when he's lost enough of his mind to the drug he took in order to control people like her, in order to _escape_.

He knows his feelings for her will never change, but he can't believe that hers _won't_.

The headache subsides to a dull irritation, and he finally closes his eyes and sinks back into sleep, still curled up on the floor.

The nightmares return, each new image bringing another sharp pain, another flash of doubt.

But when he wakes, Emma's beside him and her arms are around his neck, her knees against the cold floor, her head on his shoulder. She's fast asleep, snoring quietly into his neck, and she _can't _be comfortable. He's already feeling stiff from the unnatural position he slept in, and she's folded herself around him and he's _certain _she'll be aching when she wakes.

Except she looks peaceful.

When she stirs, she looks up at him like he's _brilliant_, and she asks no questions, demands no explanation.

She simply kisses him, her body warm when she relaxes into him, her tongue tracing his lips until he opens his mouth to her, tangles his tongue with hers. His only hand flexes on her hip, holds her tightly to him.

And then, when a Grey Warden walks past them and clears their throat, Emma pulls back and whispers 'Good Morning'.

Killian thinks maybe, one day, he'll be fine.

* * *

**Here you go! It's a day early because I'm probably going to be busy tomorrow. I hope you enjoy it - I'd love to hear your thoughts! Thank you for the favourites/alerts/reviews and thank you to BlackDragon733 for editing this with me! (Only three chapters left!)**


	15. Part 15

**Part 15**

Most of the time, things don't feel better. Killian finds it easier to _cope _now, but being here, being near Emma, does nothing to stop the lurking emptiness that has become so familiar.

But the Grey Warden's fortress is pleasantly dull, and he finds it easy to lose himself when he has nothing he needs to think about, nothing he needs to do.

He doesn't need lyrium any more, only rarely feels a yearning for it and that's when he's feeling particularly miserable. He doesn't understand the misery, because he's wanted _this_, being close to Emma for so long. He thinks that maybe it's just that he's spent so long being _unhappy_ that he doesn't know _how_ to feel happy.

But he has a routine and that helps.

He dines with the Grey Wardens, and they generally ignore him and talk amongst themselves but he doesn't care that much, not when Emma's there, because when she is, she's beside him and she's talking to him. He spends the rest of the time wandering through the courtyards and seeing the Wardens train. He loves watching Emma, seeing her control the elements with a single word and a turn of her hand, but sometimes she's busy and he can't sit and be her audience. In that case, he watches the others - sees them wielding bows and arrows, swords and shields, heavy claymores and huge axes - but he always leaves because he remembers his own training, remembers learning how to fight with a great sword, and he remembers that now, with one hand, he can barely lift them.

He can't fight anymore. Not like he used to.

His life is boring and monotonous and lonely, but it's still so much better than before.

Because he has Emma, has someone who brings colour into the greyness of his life. He has their evenings together, when she's freed from her duty and they can retire to her small bedroom and her just-big-enough bed.

And they finally start _learning _one another - learning everything that made them who they are, learning new things to love. They kiss, make love, dedicate themselves to one another, and sleep entangled, as close as they can be because they were too far apart for too long.

Some nights he wakes, the same way he did on the first night, and he needs the cool stone against his skin so he leaves the bed - but never the room, not again - and he curls up against the wall.

He always wakes to Emma's embrace.

Eventually, when it becomes clear that the nightmares and the fevers aren't going away, they move the bed so the edge is against the wall and he doesn't have to leave her side anymore.

Slowly, he finds the words to tell her about the last few years - about Rumplestiltskin and about the lyrium - and she never comments, she just holds him tighter and kisses him. She speaks in return about what she's been doing, how she came to the fortress after the final battle and she's remained there ever since.

And she doesn't seem to see it, but it sounds as constricting as the Circle, and this isn't the life he wanted for her but he doesn't say a thing because he doesn't have any ideas as to how they'd live instead.

Because here, when he's holding her, he's as happy as it's possible for him to be.

Until one day, when one of the Wardens, Ser Graham, leaves the fortress to die. Emma tells Killian that he's going to his calling, that the ritual that makes a Grey Warden may make them immune to the disease brought by the Darkspawn, but not forever.

That one day, a Warden will hear the Darkspawn calling them and know that it's their time. And they'll leave, retreat underground to take as many Darkspawn with them as they can.

"When you go," Killian says, his voice hoarse, unable to really process what she's telling him. "I'll go too."

Emma refuses, tells him that, years from now, when it's _her _hearing the song, she can't have him follow her to die.

"And I can't live without you." he says, struggling to say the words because he already feels like they'll never have long enough, but now he _knows _that they won't have a lifetime. "There's no point suffering through misery again when I can simply remain with you."

She pulls him into the library, the same room that they had reunited in, and she crosses her arms and glares at him. "You _can._"

Killian shakes his head because she doesn't understand. "I can't. I've lived without you before and I don't want to do it again. I _can't _do it again."

She looks at him, her lip trembling and her eyes wide and filled with tears. And then everything hits him at once, how everything he's done for her has only led her to a new prison and a shorter life and he regrets _everything _but her.

"I should never have told Robin to recruit you." he hisses under his breath, and she steps back, steps away from him. "You should have stayed in the Circle."

"What?" she asks, shaking her head. "You shouldn't have _freed _me? You'd rather that I stayed in that place than be here with you?"

"No." he insists, and she exhales angrily and he's saying everything wrong. "But I didn't free you."

"You did."

"No I didn't." he mumbles, and Emma steps back towards him but he knows it's only so she can hear him. "I made sure you were signed up to fight in a horrible war and then you simply came here, to this place, and you stayed inside and you never left, just the same as the Circle. And maybe you're not forbidden to leave, but ever since I've been here, all I've seen is that you're just as trapped as you were back then. The only difference is that you'll die sooner."

"Maybe I haven't left but I have the choice." she whispers, but she's looking confused and her hands are clenched into tight fists. "And that's what makes it different."

He sighs, because if that's what she truly believes, he doesn't want to tell her otherwise. And he can stand days of monotony if it's what she wants.

Besides, he doesn't want to fight with her, not when he's aware that every minute is precious, that one day she'll die because of the choice _he _made.

"Alright." he concedes, and she steps closer, takes his hand in hers and smiles at him. "It's your choice to stay. When your calling comes, it's my choice to go with you."

"Why?"

"Because I love you." he admits, and as often as Emma has said the words, he's never managed to speak them before. "Don't you know that?"

She breathes in shakily and then brushes her lips tenderly over his and he sighs into her, not having realised how tense he was until he could relax. "It's nice to hear." she whispers against his lips. "But I knew. How could I not?"

Emma kisses him again, and maybe they should talk more, because they've both just backed off, preferring to avoid a fight, but they don't. Instead he kisses her harder and takes her to bed.

And they don't discuss it again.

But he thinks about it. He has nothing to do _but _think about it. His routine stays the same, but it doesn't _help _anymore. Boredom means he has time to sit and mull over everything, but Emma still seems happy even though she's going to be stuck in greyness for the rest of her life. And if she's happy, he's not going to take that away.

Even if he thinks she should have better. Except he can't give her anything more anyway.

One morning, he wakes after Emma, which is strange because he always wakes first. She's looking down at him, trailing her finger along his cheek. "We're going to leave." she says when she sees his eyes are open, and then she kisses him quickly before he can ask for clarification. "We're going to travel the world."

"Why?" he asks, his hold on her tightening, thumb brushing the small of her back. "You're happy here. I don't need anything other than your happiness, my love."

"But _you _hate it here." she murmurs. "You're trapped here because of me. And it's my turn to make _you _happy, because I love you."

"Being with you makes me as happy as it's possible to be." He insists, but she shakes her head and nuzzles closer. "There's no need for you to sacrifice anything for me."

"It's not a sacrifice." she says quietly, and presses a kiss to his chest. "Not if I'm still with you. I don't need to stay here. You're all I need. And together, we're going to see the world. I want you to show me the world the same way you did in the library all those years ago, except you won't have to describe lakes and mountains to me because we'll see them ourselves."

He feels choked because he knows Emma's fine with the life she has, but she wants more for _him_. "You don't have to do this. Not for me."

"I want to." Emma says quietly, and maybe she's been thinking of their almost-fight as much as he has. "I'm going to get my calling one day, and I want to have been with you. You mean more to me than staying here. I want to find somewhere where we can both be truly happy and that's not this place."

He doesn't know how happy he _can_ be, but the thought of seeing Emma surrounded by colour instead of grey is so wonderful that he smiles widely at her. He notices her breath catch, because he doesn't smile at her as often as he should, and then she's surrounding him and they're coming together, and it's slow and intense and _everything_.

Emma's smile is breath-taking, even more than usual.

And if his happiness will make her smile like that, he'll try and remember how to feel it.

* * *

**Here you go! I've actually written the entire thing now so I'm going to update every evening until it's finished (so until Saturday). I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thank you for the reviews/favourites/alerts and thank you to BlackDragon733 for editing this with me.**


	16. Part 16

**Part 16**

They leave the Grey Warden fortress within a week of their conversation, slowly travelling through the cold mountains with no destination in mind.

As long as they are together, they don't need one.

But Killian can't walk for too long, not before getting tired and cold and shaky, so they spend a lot of time in Emma's small tent. They curl up together, every inch pressed against one another, and find warmth in each other.

And one night, when they're both sated and sleepy, Killian feels Emma lips, hot against his shoulder, and he turns to look down at her. She's smiling up at him, and her love is clear in her eyes, so he kisses her.

"Why did you give up everything for me?" Emma asks when they break apart, her hand lingering teasingly low on his chest.

Killian exhales, closes his eyes as he remembers the lure of the lyrium and how the drug had made the Templars a prison, one he was too scared to escape from. He's never thought about _why _before, because he thinks that loving her is reason enough, but with her question still hovering between them, he tries to find an answer. "I didn't give up anything for you." he answers eventually, _carefully_. "Not that I wouldn't, because I would honestly pay any price if it meant being with you. I was trapped in that organisation and meeting you helped me realise that. I resented the vows I'd made, because all they were were promises that kept us apart. But I was still trapped because of the memories I had of Rumplestiltskin and the promise I had made to myself. And it hurt to stay. It _ruined _me. I had shackled myself to an organisation that I should have joined because of my faith, even though I never believed. Not enough. When I met you, I found something that I _truly _believed in and leaving to fight for it wasn't a sacrifice at all."

"What was it?" Emma breathes, her hand travelling the last few inches down his torso to take him in hand.

His breath hitches, his head lolling back against the pillow as Emma's light touches bring him closer to the edge. "Us." he answers hoarsely, whimpering when Emma starts kissing a path down his chest. "My love for you."

Emma pauses in her ministrations, ignores his quiet grumble of complaint, and then surges up to capture his lips with hers, the length of her body plastered against his. "Maker, I love you." she whispers.

They don't speak for the rest of the evening. They're too occupied.

And they keep travelling.

It's just the two of them for weeks, but eventually they arrive back at Killian's old village. It brings back memories, _nightmares_, and they can't stay long. They _don't _stay long, because as kind as Liam is to Emma, Killian can see the slight discomfort his brother feels around the mage.

And Killian and Emma can't share a bed in the Chantry, but there's nowhere else to stay.

He can't sleep without her, doesn't _want _to sleep without her, because waking up curled against the cold wall _without _Emma embracing him is terrifying.

When Killian says goodbye, Liam claps him on the back and wishes him well and tells him he's _proud _of how Killian's doing, that he's _happy _for him.

Killian wonders if they'll ever see him again, because he loves his brother but being back home hurts more than he would have expected, even with Emma beside him.

They spend a night camped by the lake Killian had once told her about. Killian tucks Emma against his side and she rests her hand against his chest, idly fiddling with the phylactery he still wears.

He feels more content than ever. The air is mild, the sky is glowing orange and Emma's pressing light kisses to his jaw, and the more time that they spend together, the more time that it's _just them_, the closer he gets to happiness.

The Circle looms in the distance as they walk around the lake, but they take a detour so that they never go near it. Emma doesn't want to, but she tells him as they travel that as confining as she found the tower, she can't find it in herself to regret any of it, because it led her to him.

He kisses her and they topple into the grass and he laughs for the first time in years.

At the next town, they run into Knight-Commander David. The man looks more relaxed than Killian has ever seen, and for the first time, he's out of his armour. He greets Killian with a firm handshake and a comment on the lack of letters, and then he offers his hand to Emma as well.

Emma takes it and David grins.

He invites them to stay a few nights in his townhouse, and they're introduced to his wife, Mary-Margaret, and his two children, Neal and Ruth.

Mary-Margaret is the kindest woman that Killian's ever met, but he feels Emma growing uneasy the longer they talk.

Because Mary-Margaret's pregnant and glowing and happy, and that seems to upset Emma.

That night, in a small spare room, Emma curls up next to him and for a very long time, she's silent.

"I don't want children." she mutters into his skin, and he holds her close because her voice sounds choked and sad.

"Alright." he replies, because he doesn't want children either. He can barely look after himself, never mind a child, and he's pretty certain he's too broken to be a father anyway.

Except Emma's hand takes his, holds it tightly, and then she's sobbing into his chest and he doesn't understand, so all he can do is press kisses to her hair and anchor her to him. "I do want them." she says quietly, through her cries. "But I'm a Grey Warden."

"I'm sorry, my love," he whispers, and she clings tighter. "But I don't understand."

"The ritual," she mutters, one hand against his heart. "The one I took part in to become a Grey Warden. What I had to do, it changes people. That's why we can hear the Calling, it's why we can kill the Archdemons. And it's why I can't have children."

Killian swallows, tightens his hold on her and drops another kiss to her hair. "I didn't know."

"I didn't want to tell you." she admits, almost inaudibly. "I didn't want you to blame yourself. I didn't want you to know in case…"

"In case?"

She shrugs and rolls away from him, and he watches her gaze up at the ceiling. "In case children was something you wanted."

He shakes his head and sighs, but he doesn't want to tell Emma that he's _happy _children aren't in their future. He's selfish, and Emma only has a decade or so left, and when she goes, he wants to go with her.

"All I want is you." he promises, and Emma raises her head to look at him and he meets her gaze steadily.

Emma kisses him, cups his face in her hands, presses her lips to his and breathes him in.

And later, when Emma's finally asleep, far more restless than usual, he sighs and stares up at the ceiling.

He had wanted her to be free but all he's done is take things from her. Becoming a Grey Warden may have saved her from the Circle, but it led her to war and it stole her chance at a family, stole her chance at life more than the Circle ever could.

They leave David's home before the sun rises, without a goodbye. As much as Killian would love to return, being here hurts Emma too much.

Emma takes his hand and they start walking. To where, he still doesn't know.

* * *

**One more chapter! (And it should be posted tomorrow) I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Thank you so much for the reviews/alerts/favourites and thank you to BlackDragon733 for editing this with me!**


	17. Part 17

**Part 17**

Together, they see the world. They go further than Killian has ever dreamed, leaving their home country to explore the surrounding worlds. They climb mountains, cross seas, wander caves and see _everything_.

He enjoys it most when they're sailing. The rocking of a ship relaxes him, calms him, and he sleeps with ease. Eventually, they pay for passage on a merchant ship and they traverse the coast for a year.

One night, when there's a furious storm, Emma and Killian lock down the hatches of their tiny cabin and come together, Emma's body pliant and warm against his as they move with each rock of the ship.

And when she's curled up at his side, his hand toying with the ends of her hair, he asks her to marry him.

He hadn't thought about it until then, had always been perfectly content with what they had - he still is - but the phrase comes to his mind and he needs to voice it.

She kisses him, tangles her tongue with his and presses into him, his arms wrapping around her waist, and then she pulls back and says no.

For a moment, he feels like he's drowning. He struggles to breath, suffocates, and then Emma takes his hand and moves it so he's holding the phylactery, and the furious beats of the vial bring him back. Emma runs her finger along his cheek, concern clear on her face even though she has to know what brought on his panic.

"I love you. I always will." she promises. "The only person that needs to know that is you. We're far from your family, and I have none of my own and I don't believe in the Maker enough to want a ceremony for only him."

"It would be for us." He murmurs, because there's part of him that wants to do things the way he was taught to, back with Liam at the Chantry. He wants the Maker to know that they've chosen each other. "You may not believe, but I do, Emma."

Emma frowns contemplatively, and then her thumb brushes across his bottom lip. "Do you know the vows?" she asks. "Because if you do, say them. The Maker will know, and _we'll_ know. Besides, we dedicate ourselves to each other every night anyway."

It takes him a moment, but he remembers.

And ten minutes later, it may not be _official_, but he's made vows to her and to the Maker, and these vows he knows he will never break.

She's his _wife _in all ways that matter, and he's smiling so widely it _hurts. _She presses her smile to his, rolls to straddle his hips and lower herself onto him, and everything he's suffered through was worth it because it got him to _this_.

For a while, they consider finding a place to stay, somewhere they could settle. After a couple more years of wandering, they find a small village with an empty cottage and it becomes theirs. It's tiny, only two rooms, but it's more of a home than they've had in a very long time.

They find a routine easily, and it's nice. Emma makes poultices and potions for the villagers and they use the few coins she receives to buy clothes and food for the orphans that live in the Chantry, the way Milah had done for Killian decades earlier. Killian helps too, teaching the children how to read and write.

And when they're not doing that, when they're both free, they simply enjoy being with each other.

One of the boys at the Chantry sits outside and reads books when the sun is high, and it reminds Killian of Liam so one day, he talks to him.

His name is Henry, and he's alone. He likes to read the Chants and History books that he can find in the Chantry archives, but most of all he loves to learn.

Killian introduces him to Emma and she begins to teach the child how to make the poultices. Soon, Henry's spending every afternoon at their home. He talks a lot but it's nice to hear such optimistic views on the world, especially from a boy who has never had a reason to see the world any other way.

And Killian knows Emma is growing fond of the child, knows she loves him. Killian cares for Henry too.

So, although he's still uncertain if he can be the father Henry deserves, he asks Emma one evening if she wants this place to be their home, if she wants to stay here with him and with Henry. They've already lived in the same village for close to four years, so he assumes he knows her answer.

Emma pulls him towards her, wraps her arms around his waists and rests her head against his heart. "I don't want to stay here." she says quietly. "I can hear the song, Killian. It's faint and I can ignore it, but it's there. And it's going to get louder. I can't do that to Henry. I can't care for him and adopt him when I'm going to have to leave."

Killian feels his heart beating furiously in his chest, because if Emma can hear the Calling, she's running out of time. _They're _running out of time, and as happy as he's been, he still fears being without her and he's still utterly certain that he won't survive without her.

And it's hard to leave but they do, and Emma holds Henry close and tells him she's sorry but they can't be the family he deserves.

For days, Emma cries, and Killian holds her and tries to make her happy, tries to cheer her up, but he misses the child too, even if he understands perfectly why they had to go.

They never find another place to call home, but they enjoy their adventures together.

At least, he enjoys their adventures until days start where Emma's often distracted, when her eyes glaze over and she looks into the distance and even kisses and soft touches can't bring her back. He knows it's the song, that it's louder now, and he loses sleep because losing Emma the way he is is more painful than anything he's experienced before, and he _knows _pain.

He hates that she's being taken captive by something she can never escape, something he can't try to save her from.

And it's been fifteen years since he met her when Emma takes her staff in hand and tells him it's time for her last adventure.

Killian kisses her, and it's not their last kiss, not yet, because he won't let her last days be lonely.

He goes with her.

* * *

**And that's the end! I hope you enjoyed this story - I've enjoyed writing it! I'm so thankful for all the reviews/favourites/alerts because back when I started writing and planning this, I was worried I wouldn't be able to make it work for people who didn't know the Dragon Age Universe and that it wouldn't work or people wouldn't want to read it. So it means a lot to hear you've enjoyed this story.**

**And a final thank you to my beta, BlackDragon733, who tried her hardest to think of a happy ending (but couldn't).**


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